


The Golden Quartet: The Goblet of Fire

by IziWilson76



Series: The Golden Quartet [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts has 3 champions, Sirius Black has a daughter - Freeform, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 180,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8399440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IziWilson76/pseuds/IziWilson76
Summary: The Daughter of Sirius Black is back in her fourth year with a special feature; The Triwizard Tournament. At first, the Tournament seems like a fun spectator event until somehow, she and her god-brother, Harry Potter are somehow unwillingly submitted into the contest. Friendships will be tested, romance will bloom, and why is Lord Voldemort after Tess?





	1. Chapter 1

The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it "the Riddle House," even though it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied.

The Little Hangletons all agreed that the old house was "creepy." Half a century ago, something strange and horrible had happened there, something that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss when topics for gossip were scarce. The story had been picked over so many times, and had been embroidered in so many places, that nobody was quite sure what the truth was anymore. Every version of the tale, however, started in the same place: Fifty years before, at daybreak on a fine summer's morning when the Riddle House had still been well kept and impressive, a maid had entered the drawing room to find all three Riddles dead.

The maid had run screaming down the hill into the village and roused as many people as she could.

"Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their dinner things!"

The police were summoned, and the whole of Little Hangleton had seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted their breath pretending to feel very sad about the Riddles, for they had been most unpopular. Elderly Mr. and Mrs. Riddle had been rich, snobbish, and rude, and their grown-up son, Tom, had been, if anything, worse. All the villagers cared about was the identity of their murderer - for plainly, three apparently healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same night.

The Hanged Man, the village pub, did a roaring trade that night; the whole village seemed to have turned out to discuss the murders. They were rewarded for leaving their firesides when the Riddles' cook arrived dramatically in their midst and announcedto the suddenly silent pub that a man called Frank Bryce had just been arrested.

"Frank!" cried several people. "Never!"

Frank Bryce was the Riddles' gardener. He lived alone in a run-down cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House. Frank had come back from the war with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises, and had been working for the Riddles ever since.

There was a rush to buy the cook drinks and hear more details.

"Always thought he was odd," she told the eagerly listening villagers, after her fourth sherry. "Unfriendly, like. I'm sure if I've offered him a cuppa once, I've offered it a hundred times. Never wanted to mix, he didn't."

"Ah, now," said a woman at the bar, "he had a hard war, Frank. He likes the quiet life. That's no reason to -"

"Who else had a key to the back door, then?" barked the cook. "There's been a spare key hanging in the gardener's cottage far back as I can remember! Nobody forced the door last night! No broken windows! All Frank had to do was creep up to the big house while we was all sleeping..."

The villagers exchanged dark looks.

"I always thought that he had a nasty look about him, right enough," grunted a man at the bar.

"War turned him funny, if you ask me," said the landlord.

"Told you I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of Frank, didn't I, Dot?" said an excited woman in the corner.

"Horrible temper," said Dot, nodding fervently. "I remember, when he was a kid..."

By the following morning, hardly anyone in Little Hangleton doubted that Frank Bryce had killed the Riddles.

But over in the neighboring town of Great Hangleton, in the dark and dingy police station, Frank was stubbornly repeating, again and again, that he was innocent, and that the only person he had seen near the house on the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired and pale. Nobody else in the village had seen any such boy, and the police were quite sure Frank had invented him.

Then, just when things were looking very serious for Frank, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and changed everything.

The police had never read an odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies and had concluded that none of the Riddles had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangles, suffocated, or (as far as they could tell) harmed at all. In fact (the reportcontinued, in a tone of unmistakable bewilderment), the Riddles all appeared to be in perfect health - apart from the fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note (as though determined to find something wrong with the bodies) that each of the Riddles had a look of terror upon his or her face - but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three people being frightened to death?

As there was no proof that the Riddles had been murdered at all, the police were forced to let Frank go. The Riddles were buried in the Little Hangleton churchyard, and their graves remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, and amid acloud of suspicion, Frank Bryce returned to his cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House.

"As far as I'm concerned, he killed them, and I don't care what the police say," said Dot in the Hanged Man. "And if he had any decency, he'd leave here, knowing as how we knows he did it."

But Frank did not leave. He stayed to tend the garden for the next family who lived in the Riddle House, and then the next - for neither family stayed long. Perhaps it was partly because of Frank that the new owners said there was a nasty feeling about the place, which, in the absence of inhabitants, started to fall into disrepair.

The wealthy man who owned the Riddle House these days neither lived there nor put it to any use; they said in the village that he kept it for "tax reasons," though nobody was very clear what these might be. The wealthy owner continued to pay Frank to do the gardening, however. Frank was nearing his seventy-seventh birthday now, very deaf, his bad leg stiffer than ever, but could be seen pottering around the flower beds in fine weather, even though the weeds were starting to creep up on him, try as he might to suppress them.

Weeds were not the only things Frank had to contend with either. Boys from the village made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the Riddle House. They rode their bicycles over the lawns Frank worked so hard to keep smooth. Once or twice, they broke into the old house for a dare. They knew that old Frank's devotion to the house and the grounds amounted almost to an obsession, and it amused them to see him limping across the garden, brandishing his stick and yelling croakily at them. Frank, for his part, believed the boys tormented him because they, like their parents and grandparents, though him a murderer. So when Frank awoke one night in August and saw something very odd up at the old house, he merely assumed that the boys had gone one step further in their attempts to punish him.

It was Frank's bad leg that woke him; it was paining him worse than ever in his old age. He got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen with the idea of refilling his hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in his knee. Standing at the sink, filling the kettle, he looked up at the Riddle House and saw lights glimmering in its upper windows. Frank knew at once what was going on. The boys had broken into the house again, and judging by the flickering quality of the light, they had started a fire.

Frank had no telephone, in any case, he had deeply mistrusted the police ever since they had taken him in for questioning about the Riddles' deaths. He put down the kettle at once, hurried back upstairs as fast as his bad leg would allow, and was soon back in his kitchen, fully dressed and removing a rusty old key from its hook by the door. He picked up his walking stick, which was propped against the wall, and set off into the night.

The front door of the Riddle House bore no sign of being forced, nor did any of the windows. Frank limped around to the back of the house until he reached a door almost completely hidden by ivy, took out the old key, put it into the lock, and opened the door noiselessly.

He let himself into the cavernous kitchen. Frank had not entered it for many years; nevertheless, although it was very dark, he remembered where the door into the hall was, and he groped his way towards it, his nostrils full of the smell of decay, ears pricked for any sound of footsteps or voices from overhead. He reached the hall, which was a little lighter owing to the large mullioned windows on either side of the front door, and started to climb the stairs, blessing the dust that lay thick upon the stone, because it muffled the sound of his feet and stick.

On the landing, Frank turned right, and saw at once where the intruders were: At the every end of the passage a door stood ajar, and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. Frank edged closer and closer, he was able to see a narrow slice of the room beyond.

The fire, he now saw, had been lit in the grate. This surprised him. Then he stopped moving and listened intently, for a man's voice spoke within the room; it sounded timid and fearful.

"There is a little more in the bottle, My Lord, if you are still hungry."

"Later," said a second voice. This too belonged to a man - but it was strangely high-pitched, and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand up. "Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail."

Frank turned his right ear toward the door, the better to hear. There came the clink of a bottle being put down upon some hard surface, and then the dull scraping noise of a heavy chair being dragged across the floor. Frank caught a glimpse of a small man, his back to the door, pushing the chair into place. He was wearing a long black cloak, and there was a bald patch at the back of his head. Then he went out of sight again.

"Where is Nagini?" said the cold voice.

"I - I don't know, My Lord," said the first voice nervously. "She set out to explore the house, I think..."

"You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail," said the second voice. "I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

Brow furrowed, Frank inclined his good ear still closer to the door, listening very hard. There was a pause, and then the man called Wormtail spoke again.

"My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

"A week," said the cold voice. "Perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over."

Frank inserted a gnarled finger into his ear and rotated it. Owing, no doubt, to a buildup of earwax, he had heard the word "Quidditch," which was not a word at all.

"The - the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?" said Wormtail. (Frank dug his finger still more vigorously into his ear.) "Forgive me, but - I do not understand - why should we wait until the World Cup is over?"

"Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait."

Frank stopped trying to clear out his ear. He had distinctly heard the words "Ministry of Magic," "wizards," and "Muggles." Plainly, each of these expressions meant something secret, and Frank could think of only two sorts of people who would speak in code: spies and criminals. Frank tightened his hold on his walking stick once more, and listened more closely still.

"Your Lordship is still determined, then?" Wormtail said quietly.

"Certainly I am determined, Wormtail." There was a note of menace in the cold voice now.

A slight pause followed - and the Wormtail spoke, the words tumbling from him in a rush, as though he was forcing himself to say this before he lost his nerve.

"It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord. Or the girl you seek."

Another pause, more protracted, and then -

"Without the boy and the girl?" breathed the second voice softly. "I see..."

"My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy or the girl!" said Wormtail, his voice rising squeakily. "Those two are nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard - any wizard - the thing could be done so much more quickly and you would have what you desire! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while - you know that I can disguise myself most effectively - I could be back here in as little as two days with two suitable people -"

"I could use another wizard," said the cold voice softly, "that is true..."

"My Lord, it makes sense," said Wormtail, sounding thoroughly relieved now. "Laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected -"

"And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder...perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?"

"My Lord! I - I have no wish to leave you, none at all -"

"Do not lie to me!" hissed the second voice. "I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me..."

"No! My devotion to Your Lordship -"

"Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?"

"But you seem so much stronger, My Lord -"

"Liar," breathed the second voice. "I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!"

Wormtail, who had been sputtering incoherently, fell silent at once. For a few seconds, Frank could hear nothing but the fire crackling. The second man spoke once more, in a whisper that was almost a hiss.

"I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. I have already chosen the girl. It has taken me three long years but I finally found who I was looking for. I just need more patience to wait until I have her. As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail - courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldermort's wrath -"

"My Lord, I must speak!" said Wormtail, panic in his voice now. "All through our journey I have gone over the plan in my head - My Lord, Bertha Jorkin's disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I murder -"

"If?" whispered the second voice. "If? If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry need never know that anyone else has died. You will do it quietly and without fuss; I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my present condition...Come, Wormtail, one more death and our path to Harry Potter is clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my faithful servant will have rejoined us -"

"I am a faithful servant," said Wormtail, the merest trace of sullenness in his voice.

"Wormtail, I need somebody with brains, somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you, unfortunately, fulfill neither requirement. The young witch I seek, she fufills more than those requirements, she is those requirements. She is not a servant, more of...a future endeavor."

"I found you," said Wormtail, and there was definitely a sulky edge to his voice now. "I was the one who found you. I brought you Bertha Jorkins."

"That is true," said the second man, sounding amused. "A stroke of brilliance I would not have thought possible from you, Wormtail - though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful she would be when you caught her, were you?"

"I - I thought she might be useful, My Lord -"

"Liar," said the second voice again, the cruel amusement more pronounced than ever. "However, I do not deny that her information was invaluable. Without it, I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform..."

"R-really, My Lord? What -?" Wormtail sounded terrified again.

"Ah, Wormtail, you don't want me to spoil the surprise? Your part will come at the very end...but I promise you, you will have the honor of being just as useful as Bertha Jorkins."

"You...you..." Wormtail's voice suddenly sounded hoarse, as though his mouth had gone very dry. "You...are going...to kill me too?"

"Wormtail, Wormtail," said the cold voice silkily, "why would I kill you? I killed Bertha because I had to. She was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if she had gone back to the Ministry with the news that she had met you on her holidays. Wizards who are supposed to be dead would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic witches at wayside inns..."

Wormtail muttered something so quietly that Frank could not hear it, but it made the second man laugh - an entirely mirthless laugh, cold as his speech.

"We could have modified her memory? But Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her. It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted from her, Wormtail."

Out in the corridor, Frank suddenly became aware that the hand gripping his walking stick was slippery with sweat. The man with the cold voice had killed a woman. He was talking about it without any kind of remorse - with amusement. He was dangerous - a madman. And he was planning more murders - this boy, Harry Potter, whoever he was - was in danger -And this girl he mentioned-it sounded like he wanted her and was planning to use her in a vile despicable way-

Frank knew what he must do. Now, if ever, was the time to go to the police. He would creep out of the house and head straight for the telephone box in the village...but the cold voice was speaking again, and Frank remained where he was, frozen to the spot, listening with all his might.

"One more murder...my faithful servant at Hogwarts...Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail as is the witch. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet...I think I hear Nagini..."

And the second man's voice changed. He started making noises such as Frank had never heard before; he was hissing and spitting without drawing breath. Frank thought he must be having some sort of fit or seizure.

And then Frank heard movement behind him in the dark passageway. He turned to look, and found himself paralyzed with fright.

Something was slithering toward him along the dark corridor floor, and as it drew nearer to the sliver of firelight, he realized with a thrill of terror that it was a gigantic snake, at least twelve feet long. Horrified, transfixed, Frank stared as its undulating body cut a wide, curving track through the thick dust on the floor, coming closer and closer - What was he to do? The only means of escape was into the room where the two men sat plotting murder, yet if he stayed where he was the snake would surely kill him -

But before he had made his decision, the snake was level with him, and then, incredibly, miraculously, it was passing; it was following the spitting, hissing noises made by the cold voice beyond the door, and in seconds, the tip of its diamond-patterned tail had vanished through the gap.

There was sweat on Frank's forehead now, and the hand on the walking stick was trembling. Inside the room, the cold voice was continuing to hiss, and Frank was visited by a strange idea, an impossible idea...This man could talk to snakes.

Frank didn't understand what was going on. He wanted more than anything to be back in his bed with his hot-water bottle. The problem was that his legs didn't seem to want to move. As he stood there shaking and trying to master himself, the cold voice switched abruptly to English again.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail," it said.

"In-indeed, My Lord?" said Wormtail.

"Indeed, yes," said the voice, "According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say."

Frank didn't have a chance to hide himself. There were footsteps and then the door of the room was flung wide open.

A short, balding man with graying hair, a pointed nose, and small, watery eyes stood before Frank, a mixture of fear and alarm in his face.

"Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?"

The cold voice was coming from the ancient armchair before the fire, but Frank couldn't see the speaker. the snake, on the other hand, was curled up on the rotting hearth rug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog.

Wormtail beckoned Frank into the room. Though still deeply shaken, Frank took a firmer grip on his walking stick and limped over the threshold.

The fire was the only source of light in the room; it cast long, spidery shadows upon the walls. Frank stared at the back of the armchair; the man inside it seemed to be even smaller than his servant, for Frank couldn't even see the back of his head.

"You heard everything, Muggle?" said the cold voice.

"What's that you're calling me?" said Frank defiantly, for now that he was inside the room, now that the time had come for some sort of action, he felt braver; it had always been so in the war.

"I am calling you a Muggle," said the voice coolly. "It means that you are not a wizard."

"I don't know what you mean by wizard," said Frank, his voice growing steadier. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too," he added, on a sudden inspiration, "my wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back -"

"You have no wife," said the cold voice, very quietly. "Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows...he always knows..."

"Is that right?" said Frank roughly. "Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, My Lord. Turn 'round and face me like a man, why don't you?"

"But I am not a man, Muggle," said the cold voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a man. However...why not? I will face you...Wormtail, come turn my chair around."

The servant gave a whimper.

"You heard me, Wormtail."

Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug.

And then the chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened his mouth and let out a scream. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and Frank Bryce crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Two hundred miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start.


	2. Chapter 2

Tess lay flat on her back, looking at the moving glow-in-the-dark constellation with fascination but she was a bit tired even after waking up after 3 in the afternoon. Oh yes, Tess may have lost to Ron, her best friend, on the eating competition, but she and him were still quarrelling on their sleeping limits. It had been two months since her inheritance, and frankly she didn't know how to spend it. Being rich was just something she was never used to and would never be. She didn't have to worry about funding or finding a cheaper pair of dragon hide gloves because she couldn't afford the basic pair. But still, she never wanted to let all that money go to her head. Johnnie of course, got a job at the Law Enforcement Academy he worked at because his father said, "Life's lemons aren't made into lemonade, not when you don't find them yourself."

She sat up, going beside the the other hand reaching out in the darkness for her Witch Weekly magazine, which was on the bedside table. She went by the window couch and started to read her latest issue, of course right straight to the Quidditch section, the pages lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window, illuminating her features.

Tess ran her fingers over the her hair again. Quintessa Crosswell or Tess for short was a skinny but getting close to slender girl of fourteen, her bright purple eyes reading under her ever wild but straight golden blonde hair now tied back in a ponytail.

She absentmindedly, ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth, as a subconscious reminder of what she survived. Right after she moved into her new home, she had began her secret process to becoming an Animaga witch. Unfortunately, it wasn't a bed of roses as she had hoped because one of the steps of the process was having a Mandrake leaf in her mouth for a month. She had to use a Sticking Charm because she had to eat and drink at some point. But it did not help having the taste of the ground even as she had ice cream. Of course she had no idea what she would become if she survived the procedure. But Dumbledore would be there to help her because he somehow found out about her secret plan even though she never told anyone and was planning to surprise her friends by the time she could do it. He had sent her a letter telling her that he could give her lessons when she came to Hogwarts.

Tess took her face out of the magazine, rubbed her eyes, and stared around her bedroom as though checking to see if everything was there. As usual, there was a large room with a lot of renovations in her room. Purple covers laid on top the bed, the walls were a light lavender and the walls had some photos from the past years. On her bedstand was an alarm clock, a glass of Vanilla Diet Coke and a picture of her late mother, Morgan Crosswell. A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of her king sized bed, revealing a cauldron, broomstick, a few leather jackets in a variety of colors, and assorted spellbooks. White paper littered that part of her new large steel desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which her raven owl, Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside her bed a book lay open; Tess had been reading it all summer. The pictures in this book were all moving. Men were turning into animals and back.

Tess walked over to the book, picked it up, and watched one of the wizards morph his arm into a wing. Then she snapped the book shut. She needed some food because she was getting hungry for a snack.

And yet...and yet...Tess jumped restlessly back to the bed and accidentally hit her head down on the wall. She sighed exasperated, running a finger through her hair. It wasn't the pain that bothered her; Tess was no stranger to pain and injury. She had almost literally had her leg torn off once and carried a boy while limping on a sprained ankle up the stairs. Her left elbow had been pierced with a venomous fang in the same year. Only last year Tess had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick. She was used to bizarre accidents and injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble. Unfortunately for some, Tess **loved** trouble.

But she brushed that off as she packed in the rest of her trunk and things to take and headed down to the kitchen for some food to find her Aunt and legal guardian, Sara Crosswell settling in.

"Hey Aunt Sara." said Tess grabbing an apple. "Long day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." Sara said, catching a banana Tess tossed her. "Thanks."

"You know, it's good that you're coming with us to the World Cup. It'll help take your mind off…. You know." She noticed Sara smiling sadly. "Johnnie."

"I really miss him." said Sara. "I know he deserves his college years and his time with his girlfriend but, still, he's my baby boy!"

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Tess asked sarcastically.

"Har, har." Sara said in a sarcastic tone and checking her watch. "Well we have about half an hour before we have to go."

A couple of weeks ago, Mr. Weasley had managed to get tickets for the 422nd Quidditch World Cup, and had proposed that Harry come along. That is if his vile relatives would actually let him go.

And yet it was because of Voldemort that Harry had come to live with the Dursleys in the first place. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would not have had the lightning scar on his forehead. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would still have had parents...and Tess and Johnnie would still have their fathers.

Harry had been a year old the night that Voldemort - the most powerful Dark wizard for a century, a wizard who had been gaining power steadily for eleven years - arrived at his house and killed his father and mother. Voldemort had then turned his wand on Harry; he had performed the curse that had disposed of many full-grown witches and wizards in his steady rise to power - and, incredibly, it had not worked. Instead of killing the small boy, the curse had rebounded upon Voldemort. Harry had survived with nothing but a lightning-shaped cut on his forehead, and Voldemort had been reduced to something barely alive. His powers gone, his life almost extinguished, Voldemort had fled; the terror in which the secret community of witches and wizards had lived for so long had lifted, Voldemort's followers had disbanded, and Harry Potter had become famous.

Right around the same time, Narcissa Malfoy had blackmailed Tess' mother, Morgan, into leaving Britain and taking her unborn child to America and it wasn't until her third year that Tess found out that Sirius Black, who was Harry Potter's godfather, was her biological father as well.

2 years prior, Tess, because of her British-American citizenship, was given a choice on choosing schools, either America's top notch school, Black Gate, or Hogwarts. Wanting to start somewhere fresh, she chose Hogwarts. She had arrived at Hogwarts to find and make the best of friends anyone could have asked for. At the end of this summer, she would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts, or in America, her junior year and she figured Harry was already counting the days until he would be back at the castle again.

About half an hour later, the Crosswells were at the Floo fireplace when a crack appeared. They looked over to see a rather nasty looking house elf with his permanent sneer painted on his face.

"Well." said Kreacher. "The new heiress is going to be off yes? Someone needs to protect the house."

"I thought we set you free." said Sara.

"You did filth." Kreacher snarled, causing Sara to tighten her fist. "But no one can ever sever the loyalty Kreacher has to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Mistress Quintessa leaves now because she wishes to enjoy the World Cup."

It was Tess' turn to look annoyed. "Have you been spying on us?"

"Not spying dear Mistress." Kreacher said sickeningly sweet. "Kreacher only wishes to ensure that the Black Line is still prosperous and alive. As well as the ancestral home she lives in. Kreacher knows the kind of filth your aunt is, so Kreacher has and always will make it his top priority to make sure that this house is protected from all who dare to enter this sacred land."

"Alright Kreacher." Sara said, beating Tess to it, setting up the Floo Network. "But don't say anything unusually nasty if anyone comes knocking."


	3. Chapter 3

"Ugh." said Tess. "Did I ever mention how much I hate that guy?"

"Tell me about it." said Sara, dragging her luggage into the Weasley Burrow. "If he's gonna try to keep serving us the **least** he can do, is stop monologuing."

"Um you should talk." Tess retorted.

And before Sara could make a snarky reply a squeal of delight rang through the wooden house.

Running towards them and picking them up, was a plump woman with bright red ginger hair and a smile that could melt anyone's heart. It was Molly Weasley.

"There you dears are!" She exclaimed.

"Mrs. Weasley." Sara greeted, hugging her after Molly stopped squeezing the life out of Tess.

"Oh how have you two been?" Molly asked, attempting to brush away any dust as they were led to the couch near the kitchens. "Oh never mind, make yourselves at home, my husband and some of my sons are out getting Harry from his aunt and uncle. Hermione will join us in a couple of days."

"It's good to see you Mrs. Weasley." said Tess. "How is-

She was cut off from The Floo fireplace glowing and out burst, Mr. Weasley, The infamous Weasley Twins, and Harry himself.

"Did he eat it?" said Fred whispered excitedly, holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet.

"Yeah," said Harry quietly, straightening up. "What was it?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Fred muttered brightly. "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer..."

"Harry Potter." Tess said in announcement.

"Hey sis." Harry said excited running and hugging her tightly, with Tess returning the emotion.


	4. Chapter 4

But when the duo broke apart Tess immediately sneezed in front of Harry but managed to cover her sneeze burst-well, most of it anyway. The tiny kitchen exploded with laughter; Harry looked around and saw that Ron and George were then sitting at the scrubbed wooden table with two red-haired people Harry had never seen before, though he knew immediately who they must be: Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers.

"How're you doing, Harry, you too Tess?" said the nearer of the two, grinning at him and holding out large hands, which Harry and Tess shook, feeling calluses and blisters under their fingers. This had to be Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. He had a broad, good-natured face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it. He almost looked like a red haired burned version of Johnnie, Tess' cousin.

Bill got to his feet, smiling, and also shook Harry's hand then Tess'. Bill came as something of a surprise. Harry knew that he worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and that Bill had been Head Boy at Hogwarts; Harry had always imagined Bill to be an older version of Percy: fussy about rule-breaking and fond of bossing everyone around. However, Bill was - there was no other word for it - cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. Bill's clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Harry recognized his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide.

Before any of them could say anything else, there was a faint popping noise, and Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. He was looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him.

"That wasn't funny Fred!" he shouted. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," said Fred, with another evil grin. I just dropped it...It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" roared Mr. Weasley. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

Harry and the Weasleys roared with laughter again. Even Tess snickered a little.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" said Fred indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," said Harry earnestly.

"That's not the point!" raged Mr. Weasley. "You wait until I tell your mother -"

"Tell me what?" said a voice behind them.

Mrs. Weasley had just entered the kitchen from checking on the gardens.

"Oh hello, Harry, dear," she said, spotting him and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley hesitated. Harry could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs. Weasley what had happened. There was a silence, while Mr. Weasley eyed his wife nervously. Then two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs. Weasley. One, with very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, was Harry's and Ron's friend, Hermione Granger. The other, who was small and red-haired, was Ron's younger sister, Ginny. Both of them smiled at Harry, who grinned back, which made Ginny go scarlet - she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to the Burrow. But when she saw Tess, she waved happily at her. Tess had become sort of a role model for her as well as Hermione.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"This is not gonna be good." Tess muttered, knowing the wrath of a mother.

"It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr. Weasley, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes -"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione from the doorway.

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, "in my room, he slept there last -"

"We can all go," said Hermione pointedly.

"Oh," said Ron, cottoning on. "Right."

"Come on Harry." said Tess, playing along. "I've got to see where I'm sleeping too."

"Yeah, we'll come too," said George.

"You stay where you are!" snarled Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and they, Tess, Hermione, and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories.

"What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as they climbed.

Ron, Tess, and Ginny both laughed, although Hermione didn't.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," said Ron quietly. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that..."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," said Ginny. "We thought they just liked the noise."

Tess only rolled her eyes. "Honestly, those two are almost as worse as Merry and Pippin."

"Merry and who?" Ron asked.

"Never mind." said Tess, dragging her suitcase.

"Wait, you've read Lord of the Rings?" Hermione asked with excitement.

"Yeah." said Tess. "Have you?"

"Hell yeah." said Hermione before gasping in horror. "I can't believe I'm using such foul language. Miss Quintessa Crosswell, you're corrupting me!"

"Corrupting you?" Tess asked in mock anger. "I'm the one who's educated you."

"Oh yes, like the time,you made that wise crack about the pop quiz answers in Professor Lockhart's first class." Hermione said annoyed. "Do you have any idea how traumatised I was when I looked up the term, "to get laid" in the dictionary?!"

"You didn't." Harry groaned.

"What is getting-" Ginny asked before she felt Ron's hand cover her mouth.

"You don't need to know." He said firmly.

Just then a door on the second landing opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

"Hi, Percy," said Harry.

"Oh hello, Harry," said Percy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not thundering, "said Ron irritably. "We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."

"Watcha workin on?" said Harry.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy smugly. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -"

"That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks."

Percy went slightly pink.

"You might sneer, Ron," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger -"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. As Harry, Hermione, and Ginny followed Ron up three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen below echoed up to them. It sounded as though Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Weasley about the toffees.

The room at the top of the house where Ron slept looked much as it had the last time that Harry had come to stay: the same posters of Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, were whirling and waving on the walls and sloping ceiling, and the fish tank on the windowsill, which had previously held frog spawn, now contained one extremely large frog. Ron's old rat, Scabbers, was here no more, but instead there was the tiny gray owl that had delivered Ron's letter to Harry in Privet Drive. It was hopping up and down in a small cage and twittering madly.

"Shut up, Pig," said Ron, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room. "Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," he told Harry. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work."

"Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron.

"Because he's being stupid," said Ginny, "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon."

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," said Ron sarcastically. "Ginny named him," he explained to Harry. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that."

Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. Harry knew Ron too well to take him seriously. He had moaned continually about his old rat, Scabbers, but had been most upset when Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, appeared to have eaten him.

"Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked Hermione now.

"Out in the garden, I expect," she said. "He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before."

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" said Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling.

"Enjoying it?" said Ron darkly. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch...as I was saying to Mr. Crouch... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion...Mr. Crouch was telling me...They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

"I half expected him to be in college." said Tess.

"Speaking of which, how is Johnnie?" Harry asked Tess.

"Yeah where is our Yank bloke?" Ron asked.

"Ron!" Hermione slightly scolded.

"It's ok dude." said Tess. "He's doing good actually. He's spending the rest of his summer vay cay with his girlfriend, Anna Collins."

"Have you had a good summer, Harry?" said Hermione. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," said Harry. "They saved my life, those cakes. And I have to admit that those churros you sent me Tess, those, those are heaven."

"I told ya!" Tess exclaimed, high fiving him.

"So have you both heard from -?" Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent. Harry and Tess knew Ron had been about to ask about Sirius. Ron and Hermione had been so deeply involved in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic that they were almost as concerned about Tess' father and Harry's godfather as he was. However, discussing him in front of Ginny was a bad idea. Nobody but themselves and Professor Dumbledore knew about how Sirius had escaped, or believed in his innocence.

"I think they've stopped arguing," said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment, because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry. "Shall you boys go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. The two boys of them left Ron's room and went back downstairs to find Mrs. Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered.

"So, shall we go to my room where us girls will be staying?" Ginny offered.

"Excellent idea." said Hermione.

They all went down to the first floor to a small room with pink painted walls, a good view of the orchard, and some posters of the Weird Sisters and the Hollyhead Harpies.

"Nice crib." Tess commented.

"You and Hermione will sleep in those two makeshift beds. Sorry if they're a little run down, it's the best we've got so far." She pointed to the old mattresses that had sleeping bags. The mattresses looked very uncomfortable.

"Have no fear Ginevra." said Tess bravely whipping out her wand. "Lady Tess is here to save the day." She pointed her wand at Ginny's fairly sized bed for a few minutes and closed her eyes, imagining the pull of her spell on the bed. She opened her eyes and Ginny for a second swore that Tess' iris' glowed bright purple before fading and she exclaimed, " _Ditlilostanv!"_

**(A.N that's actual Cherokee and it's pronounced, Di-tli-lo-sta-nah The v at the end is silent.)**

A golden light surrounded the bed and she quickly moved her wand to where one of the matress' was and it became an exact replica of Ginny's bed.

"Cool huh?" Tess asked her friends who were staring, mouths gaping like a fish. She repeated the process and soon, there were 2 copies of Ginny's bed.

"What kind of spell was that?" Ginny asked.

"I've never read about it in any of the books." said Hermione.

"That my friend is because it's a Native American Duplication Charm." said Tess.

"You have to teach me." Hermione said, like a kid who gotten the best birthday present ever.

Just as Tess was about to retort, Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded, "Girls! Come down, supper's ready!"

"Coming Mum!" Ginny called back. "Thanks again, Tess."


	5. Chapter 5

They had only gone a few paces when Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, Crookshanks, came pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. Harry recognized it instantly as a gnome. Barely ten inches high, its horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the Wellington boots that lay scattered around the door. Harry could hear the gnome giggling madly as Crookshanks inserted a paw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as they entered the garden, and saw that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred, Tess and George were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione and Sara was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety.

Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and they all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor.

"Will you keep it down?!" he bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce," said Bill, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

"Very badly," said Percy peevishly, and he slammed the window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

By seven o'clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were settling themselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. To somebody who had been living on meals of increasingly stale cake all summer, this was paradise, and at first, Harry listened rather than talked as he helped himself to chicken and ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad.

At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms.

"I've told Mr. Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy was saying pompously. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time, I mean, it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman -"

"I like Ludo," said Mr. Weasley mildly. "He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favor: His brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble - a lawnmower with unnatural powers - I smoothed the whole thing over."

"Oh Bagman's likable enough, of course," said Percy dismissively, "but how he ever got to be Head of Department...when I compare him to Mr. Crouch! I can't see Mr. Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realize Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?"

"Yes, I was asking Ludo about that," said Mr. Weasley, frowning. "He says Bertha's gotten lost plenty of times before now - though must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried..."

"Oh Bertha's hopeless, all right," said Percy. "I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth...but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr. Crouch has been taking a personal interest, she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr. Crouch was quite fond of her - but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However" - Percy heaved an impressive sigh and took a deep swig of elderflower wine - "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Cooperation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organize right after the World Cup."

Percy cleared his throat significantly and looked down toward the end of the table where Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. "You know the one I'm talking about, Father." He raised his voice slightly. "The top-secret one."

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered to Harry and Hermione, "He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons."

"To go with his nice thick bottomed head." Tess whispered.

The boys snickered while Hermione rolled her eyes.

In the middle of the table, Mrs. Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition.

"...with a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly." I wish you'd let me give it a trim..."

"I like it," said Sara, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Molly. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's..."

Next to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Charlie were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

"It's got to be Ireland," said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semifinals."

"Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," said Fred.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland has got seven," said Charlie shortly. "I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" said Harry eagerly, regretting more than ever his isolation from the wizarding world when he was stuck on Privet Drive.

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg."

Harry had been on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team ever since his first year at Hogwarts and owned one of the best racing brooms in the world, a Firebolt. Flying came more naturally to Harry than anything else in the magical world, and he played in the position of Seeker on the Gryffindor House team.

Tess also played on the team, though she was more of an extreme stuntwoman more than a traditional Quidditch player even though she was Chaser.

"So you really know Native American magic?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yeah but only a few spells." Tess said disappointed.

"She did this amazing duplication spell." said Ginny.

Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. Harry was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as he watched several gnomes sprinting through the rosebushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks.

Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy talking, then he said very quietly to Tess, who was done with her other conversation, "So - have you heard from your dad lately?"

Hermione and Harry looked around, listening closely.

"Yeah," said Tess softly, "twice. Pops sounds okay. I wrote to him a few days ago. He might write back while I'm here."

Harry suddenly remembered the reason he had written to Sirius once, and for a moment was on the verge of telling Ron, Tess, and Hermione about his scar hurting again, and about the dream that had awoken him...but he really didn't want to worry them just now, not when he himself was feeling so happy and peaceful.

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time."

"Wow - hope it does this time!" said Harry enthusiastically.

"Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.

"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it."

Soon the girls found themselves in the new beds. Mrs. Weasley who had seen them, of course, got a whole lot of apologizing saying that she wasn't sure if it was ok, but of course Molly forgave her.

The girls stayed up for about half an hour chatting away and it even landed in the Quidditch World Cup.

"Do you reckon it's going to be big if either team wins?" Hermione asked.

"It's the World Cup." said Ginny. "It's already big from the beginning to the end

"It's ok." said Tess. "I just can't wait to see Draco."

"What?" Hermione scolded. "Tess, he's not someone you want to be around!"

"Why not?" said Tess. "It'll be a good edge."

"Do you like him?" Ginny asked.

"A tiny bit." Tess admitted.

"Do you remember the lecture Harry gave you about Malfoy?" Hermione reminded her.

"Oh lecture, schmecture." Tess said apathetically. "I just zoned out."

"I think I can make Malfoy come to you." said Ginny. "In a more...noticeable way."

Tess scoffed. "What the hell do you want me to do, wear a sign?"

"No." said Ginny. "A dress."

Tess shrieked and flew back in her bed, grasping her throat, while Hermione rolled her eyes amused at her best friends theatricality. See, Tess had a pretty long list of things she **never** wanted to wear in her life. The standard Hogwarts uniform was number two, but number one, would always be….a dress.

"You said the D word!" Tess exclaimed.

"What?" Ginny asked giggling. "Don't tell me, big bad Tess Crosswell is scared of a little dress?"

"It's feminine and I hate anything feminine!" Tess said.

"Lights out girls." said Mr. Weasley, peering through the door. "And please keep the noise under control. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." The girls chorused.

"I'm never wearing a dress you guys." said Tess, getting beneath the covers. "It is not happening."

"I'm going to bed." said Ginny. "But mark my words Quintessa, the day will come, when you'll be **begging** for a new look."

Tess just groaned and slammed the pillow over her head. "Kill me now."


	6. Chapter 6

Harry felt as though he had barely lain down to steep in Ron's room when he was being shaken awake by Mrs. Weasley.

"Time to go, Harry, dear," she whispered, moving away to wake Ron.

Harry felt around for his glasses, put them on, and sat up. It was still dark outside. Ron muttered indistinctly as his mother roused him. At the foot of Harry's mattress he saw two large, disheveled shapes emerging from tangles of blankets.

"'S time already?" said Fred groggily.

They dressed in silence, too sleepy to talk, then, yawning and stretching, the four of them headed downstairs into the kitchen.

In Ginny's room, Hermione and Ginny were doing their best to literally pull Tess away from the bed, but she was holding onto the poles.

"Last resort." said Hermione whipping out her wand and muttering, " _Levicorpus_."

No matter how hard Tess tried to grab onto the bed poles, the magic was too strong and she ended up flying from the bed.

"For reals?" Tess asked angrily.

"Mom says it's time to get up." said Ginny.

Mrs. Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. He looked up as the boys entered and spread his arms so that they could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.

"What d'you think?" he asked anxiously to a still tired Sara Crosswell. "We're supposed to go incognito - do I look like a Muggle, Sara?"

She just gave him a thumbs up.

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" said George, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" said Mrs. Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

Harry knew that Apparating meant disappearing from one place and reappearing almost instantly in another, but had never known any Hogwarts student to do it, and understood that it was very difficult.

"So they're still in bed?" said Fred grumpily, pulling his bowl of porridge toward him. "Why can't we Apparate too?"

"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "And where have those girls got to?"

She bustled out of the kitchen and they heard her climbing the stairs.

"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Harry asked.

"Yep," said Sara. "It's kind of like getting a driving liscence. I heard the Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Everyone around the table except Harry winced.

"Er - splinched?" said Harry.

"They left half of themselves behind," said Mr. Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind..."

Harry had a sudden vision of a pair of legs and an eyeball lying abandoned on the pavement of Privet Drive.

"Were they okay?" he asked, startled.

"Oh yeah, don't worry." said Sara matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and something tells me they're not trying to rush it anytime soon. You really don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Micheal prefered brooms - slower, but safer."

Michael Crosswell was her late husband, Johnnie's late father and Tess' late uncle who was killed by Pettigrew after he eavesdropped on his plans and was trying to warn the Potters that Voldemort was coming for them.

"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?"

"Charlie had to take the test twice," said Fred, grinning. "He failed the first time. Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, well, he passed the second time," said Mrs. Weasley, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago," said George. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can."

"I think Morgan had to pass it about 15 times because she kept going to all the wrong places." said Mr. Weasley. "I think she somehow ended up appearing in the boys bathroom."

Morgan Crosswell was Tess' late mother.

There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy. But Tess was worst of all. Harry thought he saw a scarecrow but took a double take when he realized that the girl whose blonde hair was sticking all over the place and looking like she had been through hell and back, was Tess.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Tess said, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table. "I am **not** a morning person."

"By now I thought you would have been used to the morning practices we've **both** have had to suffer." said Harry defensively.

"Just because **you're** used to it, doesn't mean I am." said Tess.

"We've got a bit of a walk, children." said Mr. Weasley.

"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup..."

"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

Tess only tsked and shook her head. She was used to smuggling things, in fact, once as a child in New York, she once had a small job of smuggling drugs for No Maj's, such as marijuana, nicotine, and others. Of course she never had any, just was entasked with smuggling them. Seeing those toffees in those simple places to travel, simply put her to shame.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her. Sara was checking everyone that they had everything.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs. Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Harry, having been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding toward the Quidditch World Cup, sped up to walk with Mr. Weasley.

"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" he asked.

"It's been a massive organizational problem," sighed Mr. Weasley. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains - remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."

Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" said Harry curiously.

"They're sort of like a substitute for Apparating." said Tess who caught up. Sara was at the back, making sure no one ran off.

"Well, they can be anything," said Mr. Weasley. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them...stuff they'll just think is litter..."

They trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Harry's hands and feet were freezing. Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.

They didn't have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass.

Every time someone tried to complain, Tess would say something like, "You think this is hard, try being in labor, that's hard!"

Each breath Harry took was sharp in his chest and his legs were starting to seize up when, at last, his feet found level ground.

"Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes."

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big...Come on..."

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, we've got it."

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"Hello Sara!" Amos greeted, the blonde American woman.

"Good to see you." She said.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them all.

Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

"Hello Shovel Face." said Tess.

Cedric only groaned. "Worst nickname ever."

"What, accidentally hitting you on the head with a shovel?" Tess smirked. "Couldn't resist."

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still...not complaining...Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy..." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Tess, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur? And I see you've brought your niece, Sara."

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione and Tess, friends of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er - yeah," said Harry.

Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year...I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will...You beat Harry Potter!"

Harry couldn't think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. I told you...it was an accident..."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman...but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"Must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off...We'd better get ready..."

He looked around at Harry and Hermione.

"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -"

With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the eleven of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.

They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Harry how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now...eleven people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting...

"Three..." muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, two...one..."

It happened immediately: Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then -

His feet slammed into the ground; Ron staggered into him and he fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near his head with a heavy thud.

Harry looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, Sara, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.

Harry disentangled himself from Ron and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho. Tess was wincing at the fashion.

"Morning, Basil." said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; Harry could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some...We've been here all night...You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite...Weasley with Crosswell...Weasley..." He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory...second field...ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.

They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Harry could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They said good-bye to the Diggory's and approached the cottage door.

A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. Harry knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah - right - certainly -" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. "Help me, Harry," he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now...So this is a five?"

"A twenty," Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word.

"Ah yes, so it is...I don't know, these little bits of paper..."

"You foreign?" said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley nervously.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously.

"It's like some sort of...I dunno...like some sort of rally," said Mr. Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a took of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. Harry recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr. Weasley.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

They all stopped to take in the sight of the massive field.

"Guys." Sara announced. "Welcome to the Quidditch World Cup."


	7. Chapter 7

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was a tent, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. He went inside and called out, "We'll be a bit cramped,but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

Everyone filled in while Harry looked puzzled.

"Oh ye of little magical faith." Sara said, lightly punching Harry in the arm.

Harry bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt his jaw drop. He had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in exactly the same sort of style as Mrs. Figg's house: There were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs and a strong smell of cats.

"Well, it's not for long." said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago. Girls, go with Sara to select your beds, Ron get out of the kitchen."

"Yeah, Ron, get out of the kitchen." The Weasley Twins chorused.

"Tess, feet off the table." Sara called out.

"Feet off the table!" The twins again chorused.

Arthur picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water..."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed Harry inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions. "It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, Harry, and Hermione go and get us some water then -" Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans "- and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just -"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

After a quick tour of the girls' tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys', though without the smell of cats, Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, they could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. They made their way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around. It was only just dawning on Harry how many witches and wizards there must be in the world; he had never really thought much about those in other countries.

Their fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; Harry had never seen witches and wizards this young before. A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As they drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You don't - touch - Daddy's - wand - yecchh!"

She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. Her scolding carried after them on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells "You bust slug! You bust slug!"

A short way farther on, they saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past Harry, Ron, and Hermione he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose -"

Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn't work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE.

"I know that school!" Tess said to Harry. "The Salem Institute. It's for girls, and it's the school my mom went to before she transferred."

Harry caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents they passed, and though he couldn't understand a word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" said Ron.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind them, they heard their names.

"Harry! Tess! Ron! Hermione!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, their fellow Irish Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus, grinning. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors?" said Mrs. Finnigan.

"It's all about team spirit." said Tess.

"Aye. You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" Mrs. Finnigan added, eyeing Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione beadily. When they had assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again, though, as Ron said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Let's go and have a look," said Harry, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag - white, green, and red - was fluttering in the breeze.

The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at the many Krum's blinking and scowling at them.

"'Really grumpy?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious -"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Hermione was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away.

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old captain of Harry's House Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Tess and Harry over to his parents' tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year, and a little farther on they saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry, who slopped quite a lot of water down his front as he waved back. Tess smirked at Harry mischievously, which meant Harry was never gonna hear the end of this. More to stop Ron from smirking than anything, Harry hurriedly pointed out a large group of teenagers whom he had never seen before.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" he said. "They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

"'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil...this was years and years ago...and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

Harry laughed but didn't voice the amazement he felt at hearing about other wizarding schools. He supposed, now that he saw representatives of so many nationalities in the campsite, that he had been stupid never to realize that Hogwarts couldn't be the only one. He glanced at Hermione, who looked utterly unsurprised by the information. No doubt she had run across the news about other wizarding schools in some book or other.

"Shinigami?" Tess asked a goth Japenese girl who was passing by. She was wearing a leather jacket over a red dress, torn jeans, and three inch heels. Her hair was black with orange and yellow streaks dyed in it, that was reaching to her knees. Her face was pale with heavy duty eyeliner. She looked to be about 16.

" _Tomodachi_!" The Asian witch ran over and seemed to pass through Tess.

"Oh Shinigami." said Tess, hugging her. "You and your tricks."

"Who's this?" Ron asked.

"Harry, Ron, meet Shinigami Tomoya." Tess introduced. "She was an old friend back in Chicago."

"It has been a long time _watashi_ _wa_ _tomodachi_." said Shinigami in her thick accent.

"Doi suru." Tess agreed.

"So you're Harry Potter?" Shinigami asked. "It is good to meet you." She shook his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you too." said Harry.

"Shinigami, I've got that pair of binoculars you wanted." said Tess, handing the goth girl a pair of very strange binoculars that had many lens switches.

"And I already sent you that outfit." said Shinigami. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That there's no lava in Chicago?" Tess asked.

"That's the old friend I know."

"You've been ages," said George when they finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down. "Tess, I didn't know you spoke Japanese."

"It's only a little." Tess said. "Fred, you've got that fire started yet?"

"Yeah, your aunt had to take over, dad was having fun with the matches," said Fred. "He actually got one working and accidentally almost dropped it."

At last they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry's and Hermione's benefit; his own children knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office...Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now...Hello, Arnie...Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know...and that's Bode and Croaker...they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to..."

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Sara jumped to her feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them. "Aha!" she said. "The man of the hour! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, Harry thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming...and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements...Not much for me to do! And good to see you Sara, I see you have brought your niece, Tess."

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah - yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Tess and Harry Potter."

Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets -"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

"Oh...go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see...a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well...any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Sara. "Molly wouldn't like -"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that," Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting...That's all your savings...Your mother -"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance...I'll give you excellent odds on that one...We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes.

"I'd also like to bet." said Tess, placing down a small bag of Galleons. "That's all of my summer money, taken from my vault. About 26 Galleons. Bulgaria's gonna win, with Krum being the best Seeker in the world."

"Tess we don't want to fall into old habits." said Sara, trying to hide the money.

"You should talk." said Tess. "You're the one who's working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"That many Galleons seems like a reasonable deal but I feel like there could be something more." Ludo said challenging.

"You wanna bet on that buddy boy?" Tess asked, placing a 100 pound bill on the table next to the bag. "You can use this to bribe that Muggle or No Maj to get out of here when the Cup takes place."

"Where did you get this?" Harry asked in amazement.

"Classified information mi hermano." said Tess.

"The lady drives a hard bargain!" Ludo said excited shaking her hand. "It's a deal!"

"Dear lord." Sara muttered.

Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley. "Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha...memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was an Asian stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. Harry could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager; Harry doubted even Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of halfbow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle, said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun...Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to took forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said , smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.

Harry pulled Tess aside and whispered, "Seriously, where did you get that pound bill? Looks like you had it for ages."

"That's because I can tell you I certainly did not steal it from your uncle's back pocket when he was busy hating your guts after our second year ended." Tess whispered back. "I've been saving that one for a special occasion."

"You kick for a different team but you still play soccer, don't you Quinnie?" Harry asked, immediately, regretting his decision to call her that. In short of her lividness, she looked like a wild animal, ready to maul her prey. But she smiled evilly.

"I'll get you later." Harry dreaded his doom, because he knew that a fate of messing with Tess was not pretty.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told Harry as they and Hermione strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

"Wow, look at these!" said Tess, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action...slow everything down...and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Four pairs," said Harry firmly to the wizard.

"No - don't bother," said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," said Ron, grinning.

"Fear not, Ron." said Tess. "I'll get you something for Christmas. Something that's you."

"How have you been holding up with your wealth?" Ron asked.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"It's still strange." Tess said. "I mean, don't you think it's weird that I grew up in a tiny appartment in big bad crime ridden New York City, and nobody even told me that I was the heir of one of the stinkin' wealthiest families in the world?"

"Just be glad that you are." Harry said handing Hermione his purchase.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry," said Hermione. "And I'll get us some programs, look -"

Tess had went back early, to "get ready" and bought no souvenirs because she had given her gold and the Muggle pound bill to Bagman. By the time Harry, Ron and Hermione came back to the tents, their money bags had been lighter. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.

Harry came back to see Tess, putting on her makeup with Shinigami. She looked like one of those manga characters, but not enough to be noticed. She had a midrift black shirt with white accents. She had black shorts with almost the same designs. She had grey arm bracers, sitting next to Tess, was a pair of black and white pom poms. She also had knee high sneaker boots that were also black and white with some grey accents. Shinigami was wearing an outfit similar but the only difference was that she was wearing a dress.

"What are you wearing?" Harry asked.

"Isn't it obvious Harry-chan?" Shinigami asked. "Tess-chan is getting ready for the night."

"This is still totally unnecessary." said Tess.

"Almost done" said Shinigami. Tess had some eyeliner on, some grey eye shadow and some painted eyeliner reaching past her eyebrows upward like small flames. Her lips were painted in with half being black and half was grey. There were some streaks in her hair that were black and silver grey.

"Now for the finishing touch!" Shinigami got out her wand and said some Japanese incantation. "Now say the name of the country you'll be supporting tonight."

"Bulgaria." Tess proclaimed and instantly, the black parts of Tess' outfit, pom poms, shoes, hair, and makeup, began filling to be red, the grey parts, teal, and the white parts stayed the same.

"Oh _Domo Arrigato_ Shinigami!" She said bowing then hugging her old friend.

"It was my pleasure, a repayment of that favor you did for me years ago." Shinigami said turning to Harry. "You want some?"

"Oh no thank you." said Harry politely, and bowing, unsure of the Japanese customs. Shinigami laughed.

"I like your cute friend." She said before Disapparating.

"Bloody Hell Tess!" Ron exclaimed.

"Look at you!" Hermione said in shock.

Harry eyed her carefully, before saying, "There is one small problem. Your stomach is showing."

"So?" Tess asked, not convinced.

"Transfigure the shirt to be longer so it covers your **entire** torso." He ordered protectively.

"I agree." said Hermione. "It is a bit inappropriate."

"I don't know." said Ron. "I kind of like it that way." That of course earned stares of blades from both Harry and Hermione. But mostly Harry. "S-sorry."

Tess groaned, rolling her eyes. "Fine!" She got her wand and Transfigured her short shirt to be longer, covering her belly. "Happy?"

"Very much so." said Harry.

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

"It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. "Come on, let's go!"

"By the way, one more thing?" Tess asked.

"Yeah?" Harry replied, and before he knew it, his head was being slammed into the table. "OW! God, what the hell was that-"

" **You know** what that was for!" Tess said pointing her finger at him. "Come on! Go!"


	8. Chapter 8

Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley and Aunt Sara in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Harry and Tess couldn't stop grinning. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Harry could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand." said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again...bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley's party kept climbing, which seemed like forever but they couldn't help but gaze in wonder.

"Blimy Dad!" Fred exclaimed. "How far up are we?"

"Well put it this way." said a steely drawling voice. "If it rains, you'll be the first to know." They looked down to see Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and a woman Harry supposed must be Draco's mother.

Harry and Draco Malfoy had been enemies ever since their very first journey to Hogwarts. A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair, Draco greatly resembled his father. His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose.

Tess sneered at Narcissa. A bit after the time Tess was conceived, Narcissa blackmailed her mother a million dollars to lie to her friends that she miscarried, including her werewolf godfather, Remus Lupin.

"Hello Quintessa." Draco called out, straightening his suit.

Tess smiled and said, "Sup? Aside from the cheering and awesomeness of Quidditch, what brings you by?"

"Well Father and I are in the Minister's Box." Draco said proudly. "By personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself!"

"Don't boast Draco!" Narcissa scolded. "There's no need with these people." It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other and Harry vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row. Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Harry knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoys prided themselves on being purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

"He just happens to have friends." Sara retorted. "Something you'll never have other than that snobby attitude of yours." Pretty much everyone who heard that, was roaring in laughter while Lucius went pink in the face.

In the midst of it, Draco went over to the stairway where they were, and asked Tess, "How's your summer been?"

"It's been cool." She said. She didn't tell him about her inheritance. In fact, pretty much everyone but Ron, Harry, Hermione, and The Crosswells knew about her fortune. "You?"

"Very fortuitous." said Draco.

"Can you for once speak English instead of scholar for once?" Tess asked.

"Sorry, dude." Draco said, emphasizing his words. Unbeknownst to them, Narcissa was watching, proud of her son finding a possible suitor for him.

"Oh dear God just stop." Tess said in mock horror. "That just don't sound right coming out of you. Although, you look handsome tonight...and wow I just lost my train of thought, you have so much margarine in your hair."

Draco only laughed. "What is it with you and my hair? And by the way, you look nice too you know. Very nice."

"And Tess is very leaving right now." said Harry snarkly, coming in between. "How about this Malfoy? You get to your seats and we get to ours. Sound fine?"

"Fine!" said Narcissa grabbing Draco's arm. "We have no room for these people."

"Do enjoy yourself Squibb won't you?" Malfoy said loooking at Sara. "While you can."

As they were being dragged away from each other, Draco gave a charming smile while Tess stuck out her tongue at him.

It was still a long way up and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Harry, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the likes of which he could never have imagined.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at Harry's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Harry saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer...Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!...Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade...

Harry tore his eyes away from the sign and looked over his shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with them. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long, batlike ears were oddly familiar...

"Dobby?" said Harry incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby - it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf, as Harry's friend Dobby had been. Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and Harry suspected though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf - that this one might just be female. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.

"Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir, " said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well - why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said Harry, frowning.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to the others.

"So that's a house-elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," said Harry fervently.

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again...and again...and again..."

"Not like these." said Tess taking out the binoculars Shinigami gave her. "They're called _Iro Kokei_. It means "color sight." I call them Col-oculars."

"Do they just let you see in different colors?" Ron asked pointing to the colored switches.

"Do you wanna know why the name means color sight?" Tess asked. "Because each of these colors means a different aspect. Red is for people, because even an invisible body is a warm one." She gave Harry, who was listening a warning look. "Blue means the weather, so if it were to be bad weather like rain or snow, it would turn a dark blue, but right now it's clear so it's light blue. Green is for maximizing space, just put your fingers in front of you on that setting and it will get you in any open space, as if you're actually there! Yellow is for odor, and let me tell you, someone down the stairs over there has not showered in days-and I can see Shinigami!"

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvetcovered, tasseled program.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,"' she read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog.

In the Minister's Box, Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are veel -?"

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women...the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen...except that they weren't - they couldn't be - human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind...but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human - in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all.

Tess only groaned while Sara leaned in and whispered, "This is pretty much why I think that boys at your age are hormonal idiots, case in point, Ron and George." She gestured to said wizards who were literally drooling.

The veela had started to dance, and Harry's mind had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that he kept watching the veela, because if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen.

And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry's dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea...but would it be good enough?

"Harry, what are you doing?" said Hermione's voice from a long way off.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry was with them; he would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria with Tess, and he wondered vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat. "Honestly!" she said.

"To answer your question Harry." Tess' voice sounded in his ear. " **Those** were Veela, or in the mermaid myths, the Sirens. You know, the ones who lured sailors to their deaths?"

"You think they could at least offer sunglasses or some extra protection to make sure **no one** is actually lured to their death." Sara commented.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air...for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it -

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Harry realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

Tess scowered for some gold coins while Harry looked at her strangley. "You're already rich, why do you need more gold?"

"Do you know how hard it is to actually get leprechaun gold?" Tess asked, filling her pockets.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters, including Tess who was wildly waving her pom pom and using her Iro Kokei to see the amount of people flying in the air. She could see the Veela, down below cheering for them.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Harry quickly focused his own. Tess got up and cheered, waving both of her pom poms like a cheerleader. Mostly because she was dressed like one.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; Harry spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his glasses that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Harry spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums. Tess checked the sky with her Iro Koeki to make sure it wasn't raining and to see how fast they were going. She could see Shinigami cheer for the Irish, they were on a bet those two witches.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, he read as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it - "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

"YES!" Tess screamed, waving her pom poms, like a maniac.

"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honor around the field. Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily.

Furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

Harry knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names: "Troy - Mullet - Moran!" And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

Tess kept cheering with Sara for Bulgaria, screaming at the top of their lungs like everybody else.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. Harry screwed up his eyes too; he wanted to keep his mind on the game. After a few seconds, he chanced a glance at the field. The veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.

"YES! Is this a killer match or what?!" Tess yelled.

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was -

"They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione next to Harry.

She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"Fool!" moaned Mr. Weasley. "Krum was fainting!"

"You're just saying that!" Tess retorted.

"Let's not fight!" Sara pleaded.

"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course..."

Harry hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes.

He watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT - DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across his lenses. He saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and he understood - Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. Harry had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. Harry turned his Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Harry, focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.

"That was luck!" Tess yelled.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!"

The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, who hadn't bothered, was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

"Look at the referee!" she said, giggling.

Harry looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"This **has** to go on record!" Tess yelled, getting out her Polaroid Camera and snapping a picture or two.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Harry, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before...Oh this could turn nasty…"

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!" Sara said wincing.

The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms...yes...there they go...and Troy takes the Quaffle..."

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through Tess' Iro Kokei, now magnified through the green lens, Harry saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -

"And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

"This is slightly entertaining." said Tess gleefully said.

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione asked.

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Harry turned this way and that, staring through his Omnioculars, as the Quaffie changed hands with the speed of a bullet.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov -

The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

"Do over!" Tess yelled, but her demand was drowned by the other yells and hisses.

Harry wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though he was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Ron obviously felt the same.

"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -"

"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Harry was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing...

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on...but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Harry had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again -

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.

And he was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, along the row.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over! They've won!" shouted Tess.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good...He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all...

"Oh damn it!" Tess yelled.

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess..."

Tess put her Iro Kokei to her eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, even with the magnified sight, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

Harry's eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, he saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; Harry could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction. Tess waved her pom poms apathetically.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. Harry noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Harry's hands were numb with clapping.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely once he went to the Top Box. "A really unexpected twist, that...shame it couldn't have lasted longer...Ah yes...yes, I owe you...how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.


	9. Chapter 9

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Hermione, Tess, Sara, and Ginny went into the next tent that had been set up, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pajamas and clambered into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.

"Oh I am glad I'm not on duty," muttered Sara sleepily in the tent. "I wouldn't wanna get up from this bed, having to go and tell the Irish they've got to cut the partying."

Tess, who was on a top bunk above Ginny, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Krum's more spectacular moves. She liked Quidditch, no doubt, but she wanted to do more. She never really thought about her future but she hoped to at least find something to do.

It was a blissful moment of sleep until Ron's voice sounded.

"Get up! Girls- come on now, get up, this is urgent!"

Tess sat up quickly.

"Can't I go to sleep instead?" she said.

But it was by the lack of music that she knew that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. He could hear screams, and the sound of people running. He slipped down from the bunk and reached for his clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, girls - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"

Tess did as he was told and hurried out of the tent, the others at her heels.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, she could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Harry squinted at them...They didn't seem to have faces...Then he realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Harry saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Tess recognized one of them with a sickening realization: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick..."

Sara looked really, really ill.

"That's almost as bad as Auschwitz." Tess said, causing Sara to vomit near them.

"You really had to bring that up?" Sara groaned annoyed.

"Sorry."

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. Harry felt himself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces he could not see. Then he heard Ron yell with pain.

"What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid - lumos!"

She illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind them.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees.

Ron told Malfoy to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"

He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Hermione defiantly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles, "said Malfoy. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around...they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.

"Have it your own way, Potter," said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted Tess looking at Draco in disgust. Everybody present knew that "Mudblood" was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage.

"Never mind, Ron," said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed and everyone was running in a frenzy, even running through the crowd. Eventually, the group was split up. Draco grabbed Tess hand and he led her through the crowd, Hermione and Ron were looking for Harry who had gotten separated from them. Fred, George, and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path.

Harry dug in his pockets for his wand, but there was nothing.

"Ah, no, damn it...I've lost my wand!"

He usually kept his wand with him at all times in the wizarding world, and finding himself without it in the midst of a scene like this made him feel very vulnerable.

A rustling noise nearby made him jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back.

"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood, sparking more of panic of wizards who were running. Eventually, Harry got smacked and fell unconscious in the crowd. It was a miracle he wasn't trampled.

Tess stopped when she realized something was missing.

"Tess what are you doing?" Draco called out. "We have to get you out of here!"

"Where's Harry?" She called out. "Where the Devil is he?"

He woke up later. He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Harry was listening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter; perhaps the riot was over. So he walked down but stopped when he heard a rattle in the branches.

It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" called Harry.

There was silence. Harry got to his feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, but he could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of his vision.

"Who's there?" he said.

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

"MORSMORDRE!"

And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

For a split second, Harry thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then he realized that it was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As he watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. Harry didn't understand why, but the only possible cause was the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign. He scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but he couldn't see anyone.

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione called out.

"We've been looking for you for ages!" Ron said.

"Harry!" Tess yelled. "We've gotta get out of here now!"

"Harry, come on, move!" Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.

"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

"Voldemort's - ?"

"Harry, come on!"

Harry turned - Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum - the three of them started across the clearing - but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Harry whirled around, and in an instant, he registered one fact: Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Tess, Ron, and Hermione.

Without pausing to think, he yelled, "DUCK!"

He seized the other two and pulled them down onto the ground.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices - there was a blinding series of flashes and Harry felt the hair on his head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising his head a fraction of an inch he saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness -

"Stop!" yelled a voice he recognized. "STOP! That's my niece!"

Harry's hair stopped blowing about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Sara standing in front of them and Mr. Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified.

"Ron - Harry" - his voice sounded shaky - "Hermione - are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Harry got to his feet to face them. Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" said Harry, gesturing up at the skull.

"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to -"

"Where did the Mark come from, you four?" said Mr. Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Tess shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. "There was someone behind the trees...they shouted words - an incantation -"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr. Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy -"

But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, Tess, or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"We're too late," said the witch in the woolen dressing gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees...There's a good chance we got them..."

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth.

A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but - blimey..."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Harry recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky.

Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This - cannot - be," he said jerkily. "No -"

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf...I mean to say..."

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she had a wand."

"What?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Where did she get it?" Sara asked.

"Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching.

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too - gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?"

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why -?"

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.

"No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"And she had one," said Mr. Diggory. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Ennervate!"

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.

She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. Harry could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mr. Diggory sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Harry was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Mr. Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I - I - I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Harry recognized it

"Hey - that's mine!" he said

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

"That's my wand!" said Harry. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Sara , very angrily. "Is a young boy who until a few minutes ago didn't know what that sign was, likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er - of course not," mumbled Mr. Diggory. "Sorry...carried away..."

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," said Harry, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is...I is...I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at Harry and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Ron.

"Like a man." Tess added on.

"Well, we'll soon see," growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Mr. Diggory.

Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf!" Mr. Diggory roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"

"Amos," said Sara loudly, "think about it...precious few wizards know how to do that spell...Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps this American is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Sara looked offended. "Mr. Crouch, not at all.

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr. Crouch. "Harry Potter - and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Crosswell?"

"Of course - everyone knows -" She uttered, looking highly discomforted.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr. Crouch, she never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Crosswell!" shouted Mr. Crouch. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She - she might've picked it up anywhere -"

"Precisely, Crosswell," said Mr. Weasley. "She might have picked it up anywhere...Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

"I - I is finding it...finding it there, sir..." she whispered, "there...in the trees, sir.

"You see, Amos?" said Mr. Weasley. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir...no one..."

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to Harry that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master..." Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please..."

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

Harry knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can - if Harry could have it back, please -"

Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.

"Come on, you four," Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Hermione!" Sara said, more urgently. She turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr. Weasley.

"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time...and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!"

"Well, she's not," said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him.

"That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way -"

"Hermione, I agree with you," said Mr. Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming toward them, many of them surged forward.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur - it's not - Him?"

"Of course it's not Him," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He and Sara led Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others -"

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered after him.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Fred, George, and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Sara, sipping some hot water. "We did find Barry Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"What?" said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together.

"Harry's wand?" said Fred.

"Mr. Crouch's elf?" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to...embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry...how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control -"

"She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" shouted Tess. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone...Why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked...it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean...it's still only a shape in the sky..."

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired...you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside..." Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear...the very worst..."

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporting party is called." said Tess.

"I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly . "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters -" Harry began. Everybody flinched - like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort's name.

"Sorry," said Harry quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" said Sara with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them. It was like I was seeing the photographs of the Holocaust." she finished disgustedly.

"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives...I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So...whoever conjured the Dark Mark..." said Hermione slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "But I'll tell you this...it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now."

"Hey Sara?" Charlie asked. "If you don't mind me asking, what is this Holocaust? And what's an Auschwitz?"

Sara, Hermione, and Tess looked grim. "A time almost just like the first time You-Know-Who was in power."

"As for Auschwitz." said Sara. "It's someplace you wouldn't last 5 days if you lived during that time."

"Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick." said Mr. Weasley. "We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

Harry got back into his bunk with his head buzzing. He knew he ought to feel exhausted: It was nearly three in the morning, but he felt wide-awake - wide-awake, and worried.

Three days ago - it felt like much longer, but it had only been three days - he had awoken with his scar burning. And tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort's mark had appeared in the sky. What did these things mean?


	10. Chapter 10

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when everyone awoke next morning, a few days after they got back from the World Cup. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as Harry and Tess got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt; they would all change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.

He, Ron, Fred, and George had just reached the first-floor landing on their way down to breakfast, when Mrs. Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

"Arthur!" she called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"

While Harry and the others went to listen to Arthur's meeting, Tess went to check on her aunt and found her reading the newspaper, _The Daily Prophet._ But she found a loaf of bread looking as if it was close to being annihilated.

"Hey you ok?" Tess asked.

"Yeah." Sara said chipper. "I'm totes fines. It's not like I'm stress eating..ok I'm stress eating a whole loaf. Mrs. Weasley kind of let me."

Sara was very infamous for her motermouth talking and stress eating.

"That sight at the World Cup got to ya?" Tess asked, taking away the newspaper that said on the front page, WORLD CUP TERROR STRIKES HEARTS.

"Yeah, it reminds me of...that time." Sara said remembering the time she was tortured.

"Come here." Tess said hugging her.

"It's not only that." said Sara. "It reminded me of...Monica."

Tess nodded grimly remembering the news of that day. Monica Rodriguez was a good friend of Sara Crosswell, but was killed in the World Trade Center bombing a few months prior, on February 26, when Islamic terrorists planned to have the North Tower collapse on the South Tower, killing tens of thousands of people, but were unsuccessful. They did however manage to injure more than a thousand people and kill six, including the unborn child Monica was carrying. Sara was devastated of course and the Towers remained intact.

They could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the girls. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair with the others filling in.

"I'd better hurry - you have a good term, boys, said Mr. Weasley to Harry, Ron, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course I will," she said. "We'll be fine."

Bill, Sara, and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told them. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

Mrs. Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.

"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us," Mrs. Weasley whispered to Harry as they stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving six heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare...Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?"

Tess didn't like to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers rarely transported overexcited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an earsplitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg.

The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks. Crookshanks took quite a while to recover from the fireworks, and by the time they entered London, Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione were all severely scratched. They were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station.

Harry was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. They did it in groups today; Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione (the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks) went first; they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it...and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.

The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Sara, and Charlie.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it...it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're all going to have an interesting year," said Sara, her eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."

"A bit of what?" said Tess.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with...one thing and another."

"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"

"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Tess, Fred, and George together.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you...Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated. Sara was walking back.

Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what -"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do..."

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione sniffily, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er - why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that...well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

"Just you, then," said Ron. "So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"

"Maybe," said Tess, shrugging, "or it might have No-Maj repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -"

"Come again?"

"Well, you know can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't ya?"

"Er...if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident...Shame his mother likes him..."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, extremely forgetful boy who had been brought up by his formidable witch of a grandmother. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy - Mullet - Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.

Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"I wish they invented to capture video on cameras." Tess muttered.

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville..."

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box, great view, lots of shouting."

Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar. But he wasn't interested in that. He looked at the blonde witch who was sitting on the edge. He whispered, "Tess." and she turned around to see Malfoy gesturing her to come and pointed to east. Tess smiled, getting up but was stopped by Dean asking, "Where are you going?"

"To get some air." Tess answered. She left a very suspicious Harry Potter. But she didn't care as she walked down the corridor to find Malfoy alone.

"Cauldroun Cake?" She offered.

"Oh no thank you." He refused politely.

"So why the need to sneak me out?" Tess asked. "Or are you too chicken to even try to sit in the same compartment with you?"

"Not with your friends around." said Malfoy. "Especially Pothead."

"Well it's good to see that things are back to normal." said Tess sarcastically.

"Oh contraire mon amie." said Draco. "Things are going to get pretty hectic this year, just with the kind of action you love. Have you got your dress robes? Are you excited?"

"For what?" Tess asked. "Is there going to be a bull fight?"

"Even though I have no idea what that is, I'm going to say that it is not a fight of bulls." said Malfoy.

"And dress robes?" Tess asked. "You of all people should know that I diss anything feminine."

"Why?" Malfoy asked. "You've never tried it."

"And I don't need to." said Tess. "Even to my mom's funeral I wore a pantsuit. And you seem to know something that I don't, what's gonna happen this year?"

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face.

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got an aunt at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago...heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry."

"Well I asked, she wanted to keep it a surprise." said Tess.

"Well then, I'm gonna have to do the same." said Malfoy. "I don't bend easily so don't try begging."

"Please?" She said, lengthening the use of the word in a begging fashion.

"Nice try but no." said Malfoy trying very hard not to laugh at her pathetic attempt.

"You know what else means no?" A very angry voice sounded behind them. "You spending time around her. Come on Quintessa, you two are finished." Before Tess could react, Harry grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the compartment where the other boys left.

"What is going on?" asked Hermione reproachfully.

"Guess who was talking with Malfoy?" Harry snarled, sitting Tess next to him.

"What?" Ron asked incredulously.

"We were making conversation!" Tess argued. "And very nice conversation at that."

"I don't trust you around him." Harry said defensively.

"He's a slimy git that one." Ron agreed.

"Tess as your friends we support you in any decision we make and whatever makes you happy makes us happy, even though Harry won't admit it." said Hermione quietly. "But don't pretend some people are something they're not."


	11. Chapter 11

Harry wouldn't let Tess out of his sight for the rest of the journey. They didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads. Tess' own owl, Crucible was already in the Gryffindor Tower.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Tess, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Harry could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Tess, and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks. Tess managed to dodge some but ended up getting pelted in the face by one. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Harry looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger -"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

"Dude you and Harry **really** need haircuts." said Tess. That year, Harry and Ron's hair grew out longer, though Ron's was a tad bit longer.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

"Great." Tess drawled. "Just want we need, another Ron."

The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry and Tess hadn't been present at one since his own. He was quite looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.

"Hiya, Harry! Hi Tess!"

It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Hello." Tess said. After second year ended, Collin had left Harry alone, but made a good friend to one Johnnie Crosswell. He was the one who suggested that Collin was to be the school photographer, take any pictures that catch his eyes, anything to catch the moment.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Your brother?" said Tess. "That's amazing!"

"Where's Johnnie?" Collin asked. "I miss him."

"I miss him too but right now he's probably doing something great." Tess said. "How's your brother doing on this?"

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Tess?"

"Er - yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing.

"Hey Collin." Tess said, whispering.

"Yeah?" He said.

"Be sure to take lots of photos this year." She said. "Cause I have a feeling it's gonna be epic."

"Epic year means photos?" Collin asked excited. "Right on!"

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

They had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Harry's favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. He looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

"Well look at the bright side Hermione." said Tess. "Free period for us!"

Harry scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Harry's least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry and Tess had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose - Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days. Tess and Snape were not fans of each other either.

On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. ("Brutal." Tess winced.) All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Harry recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, I fell in the lake! He looked positively delighted about it.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Stewart Ackley!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. Harry caught a glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. For a fleeting second, Harry had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too.

"Malcolm Baddock!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; Harry could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. Harry wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin House had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

"Eleanor Branstone!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Owen Cauldwell!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Dennis Creevy!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming - a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide -

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Laura Madley!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "Natalie McDonald!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

Tess groaned. "What's so painful?" Nearly Headless Nick asked.

"It was Natalie's last name, McDonald." Tess said. "It's made me think of McDonald's and now I want a quarter pounder with fries.

"Fries." Harry asked. "Don't you mean chips?"

"I mean French Fries Potter." Tess snapped. "Not potato chips. I don't care what you stiffs call it, I will always call them fries."

"Chips." Harry nudged.

"Fries." Tess retorted.

"Chips."

"Fries."

"Chips."

"Fries."

"Chi-"

"Ok we get it!" Hermione hissed. "Now shut it!"

And finally, with "Kevin Whitby!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry, Tess, and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, and Hermione loaded their own plates.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Tess, eating her roast pork. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits -"

Clang.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning...see to the fires and so on...I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry -" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

And she refused to eat another bite.

"Hermione, I've got two sides of the coin to share." said Tess. "One, I understand your passion for house-elves but another thing, that was good pumpkin juice! Which by the way, is still weird, which is why I always drink water. Though a black and white milkshake sounds killer now."

"What is a black and white milkshake?" Ron asked interested.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

"And ice cream!" Tess exclaimed.

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. "He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped.

"Que pasa?!" Tess shrieked.

He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

"Holy Babe Ruth!" Tess said. "That's Mad Eye Moody!"

"Alastor Moody?" Hermione asked. "The Auror?"

"Auror?" Dean asked.

"Dark wizard catcher." Ron translated. "Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him."

"He's as crazy as the Mad Hatter." Tess said. "I know, I met him."

"You've met Mad Eye?" Hermione asked in astonishment.

"Yeah three years back." said Tess.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head smilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. It landed for about a minute on Harry then Tess.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "This will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well. Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event; The Triwizard Tournament."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, sometimes with different schools, and in different countries, so it's not just generally Hogwarts and the other schools that participate. It was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, eternal glory, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"I advise to you heed my word when I say there is more than meets the eye of this tournament, than the prize. Believe me when I say, these contests are not for the faint of heart. If chosen, you stand alone."

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, before Halloween and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"I can't wait for this!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "I wonder what challenges they'll have."

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Harry, Ron, Tess, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred.

"Dumbledore would choose someone wise probably be judge." said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "But these challenges can't be that bad can they? I mean come on, what's the worst that can happen?"

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Tess. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older...Dunno if we've learned enough..."

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George.

"I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to - oops..."

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Tess and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut your trap," said Tess, banging down its visor as they passed.

They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Harry distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor" before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory with Tess.

3 other girls joined them, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Winona Ryder were also getting ready.

"What do you think of this Tournament Mione?" Tess asked.

"I think it's rather barbaric." said Hermione. "Honestly, the death toll and risks just for glory and wealth! And all anybody ever cares about is exactly that! Are you thinking of entering?"

"Nope." said Tess. "A reputation like that, no, no, no. I do extreme things not for my reputation, but just for the hell of it!"

Hermione only scoffed and rolled her eyes. "So you're just gonna sit back and watch?"

Tess flopped down on her bed. "Exactly! Hermione this is like the once in a lifetime opportunity to actually witness what is basically the Wizarding Olympics! Well with a little death reputation in it but time has moved on and so has precautions. I'm just saying, what's the worst that can happen?"


	12. Chapter 12

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione examined their new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

"Today's not bad...outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures...damn it, we're still with the Slytherins..."

"Double Divination this afternoon," Tess groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry's death, which he found extremely annoying. Trelawney would always peer at Tess, as if she was trying to find something new on Tess. Last year, she was Flogged, meaning her future couldn't be read until she came to terms with her past. She was UnFlogged when she learned her father's name.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"I'm doing Numerology." Tess said. "It's good for de-coding, stuff that's important."

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah...and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap - Neville almost always forgot to pack something. Tess got a stack of letters and newspapers from her owl, Crucible. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach, Harry returned to his porridge. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn't even got his letter?

His preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

"So they're basically living zits?" Tess asked. Everyone took a face of grave dread and illness. Pimples were bad enough when it came to teenagers, but living ones were definitely horrifying to even think about.

"Thank you Tess." said Seamus. "You just gave me nightmares for a month."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Thank God." said Tess. "Proactive is ridiculously expensive." Harry looked at her incredulously. "When I was living in New York." She whispered.

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward.

"Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Harry's opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" asked Malfoy. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus. "I'm really gonna have nightmares for a month."

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Tess couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths. She couldn't exactly find a mouth to feed.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males...The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies...I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Harry, Tess, and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione knew only too well - he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now." said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry, Tess, and Ron stared at her.

"Er - is this the new stand on elf rights?" said Ron. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"Hermione, I'm warning you." said Tess. "I'm an empathetic vomiter. You throw up, I'm gonna throw up right back on you. And trust me, it will be **profoundly disgusting**."

"Please don't talk about that while we're eating." Ron groaned.

"No," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."

"What?" said Ron in disbelief. "Hermione - it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.

"It's Hermione." said Harry. "When in doubt, go to the library."

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry, Tess, and Ron set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived.

The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry, Tess, and Ron walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room, and sat down at the same small circular table.

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump.

A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him. The usual large amount of beads, chains, and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight. Tess once commented that she looked like a glittering hobo.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas...most difficult...I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass...and perhaps sooner than you think..."

Her eyes then landed on Tess and she looked at her, cupping her cheeks and said, "You will eat your words. The future is not something to joke about."

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked stonily back. Tess merely shrugged Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her.

"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," she said. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle..."

But Harry's thoughts had drifted. The perfumed fire always made him feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Trelawney's rambling talks on fortune-telling never held him exactly spellbound - though he couldn't help thinking about what she had just said to him. "I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass..."

Tess also couldn't help but think, "You will eat your words." She hoped that it was something that she could live with, because she could **not** live with wearing a dress.

But Hermione was right, Harry thought irritably, Professor Trelawney really was an old fraud. He wasn't dreading anything at the moment at all...well, unless you counted his fears that Sirius had been caught...but what did Professor Trelawney know? He had long since come to the conclusion that her brand of fortunetelling was really no more than lucky guesswork and a spooky manner.

Except, of course, for that time at the end of last term, when she had made the prediction about Voldemort rising again...and Dumbledore himself had said that he thought that trance had been genuine, when Harry had described it to him.

"Harry!" Ron muttered.

"What?"

Harry looked around; the whole class was staring at him. He sat up straight; he had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat and his thoughts.

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words.

"Born under - what, sorry?" said Harry.

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" said Professor Trelawney, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth...Your dark hair...your mean stature...tragic losses so young in life...I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"

"No," said Harry, "I was born in July."

Ron hastily turned his laugh into a hacking cough.

Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.

"I've got two Neptunes here," said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"

"Aaaaah," said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry..."

Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown - "Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?"

"It is Uranus, my dear," said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart.

"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" said Ron.

Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him, and it was this, perhaps, that made her give them so much homework at the end of the class.

"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart," she snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self. "I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!"

"Miserable old bat," said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will..."

"That's why you should have kept your mouth shut." said Tess.

"You should talk." Ron shot back.

"Lots of homework?" said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"

"Well, bully for Professor Vector," said Ron moodily.

They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" said Ron shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this!

FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Malfoy looked up.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

"Hey back off slime head!" Tess yelled.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron..."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry - both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy - "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away.

BANG!

Several people screamed - Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face - he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

Tess squealed, "Aww! Can I keep him?"

The ferret gave a greatly aggravated noise.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry - at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.

"No," said Harry, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave - what?" Harry said, bewildered.

"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Collin!" Tess whispered. "Get out your camera. Remember when I said take pictures of something epic?"

"Yeah?" He asked excited.

"Now's the time." said Tess.

"Never - do - that - again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again, Collin taking hundreds of pictures.

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What - what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach - Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Technically it's a ferret." Moody answered.

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall wealdy. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy...You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son...you tell him that from me...Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape...Come on, you..."

And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.

Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Harry, Tess, and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" said Hermione in surprise.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."

Harry, Tess, and Hermione laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates.

"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"

"Hermione!" said Tess furiously. "Greasy Haired Draco Malfoy just got turned into a ferret. Don't ruin this for us!"

"Good news!" Collin said coming up to Tess. "I've just sent the film with the ferret photos to the place where these photos get printed. Just like my other photos, they'll come here and I'll have one for you guys in about a few days."

"Nice work man!" Tess said high fiving him and Ron gave him one too.

Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.

"Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?" said Harry, watching her.

"Got to," said Hermione thickly. "Loads to do."

"But you told us Professor Vector -"

"It's not schoolwork," she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley.

"Actually I have to go too." said Tess, getting her things.

"Why so early?" Harry asked.

"I'm taking private lessons from Professor Dumbledore." said Tess.

"What sort of lessons?" Ron asked curiously.

"Call it extra credit." said Tess. "See ya!" And she left off in a hurry.

"Moody!" Fred said. "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down opposite Fred.

"Supercool," said the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. "We had him this afternoon," he told Harry and Ron.

"What was it like?" said Harry eagerly.

Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.

"He knows, man," said Lee.

"Knows what?" said Ron, leaning forward.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said George impressively.

"Doing what?" said Harry.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.

"He's seen it all," said George.

"'Mazing," said Lee.

Ron dived into his bag for his schedule.

"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice.

"What sort of lessons do you think Tess is taking?" Harry asked Ron quietly.

"I don't know mate." said Ron. "But something tells me it's not really extra credit."


	13. Chapter 13

Tess ran up to the secret staircase and said "Chocolate Frogs" and the stairway/escalator opened, allowing Tess to walk up straight to Dumbledore's office where she found him greeting her with an expectant smile.

"Hello Quintessa." He said. "Welcome to your first Animagi lesson, we will have them every other week, since I will be busy also managing the Tournament and setting the challenges and discussing things with the delegates."

"Yes!" She said excited pumping her fist in the air.

"Put down your things and set away your wand." said Dumbledore, gesturing her to sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

"Now." said Dumbledore. "I explained it to you in the letter I sent you before that because both of your parents were Animagi, it will be faster for you to complete the process, but it will not be any easier for you. In fact, this is going to be one of the hardest things you have ever done in your life."

"Yes sir." Tess agreed.

"And on top of that." said Professor Dumbledore. "You must trust and do everything I say. No matter what."

Tess took a moment to think before nodding.

"Quintessa." He said. "Now is your last chance. Becoming an Animagi is a tricky and intense experience. Once you begin, you cannot stop until you become your inner animal. Are you ready?"

Tess got up and looked Dumbledore right in the eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes."

He led her up the stairs to what must have been the highest point of the tower. On the floor was a large butterfly, and pouring in through half of the windows, all circling the butterfly so that all the light would converge at the center, was the moonlight, pale and beautiful as ever. But tonight it kind of gave Tess the chills.

"I'm going to teach you in the traditional Native American way of becoming Animagi." said Dumbledore. "I find it gets the job done faster. Do you know what the butterfly means to The Cherokee Tribe? The one your mother is descended from?"

"Yes." said Tess. "It symbolizes transformation and change." She stepped towards it.

"Now." said Dumbledore walking around it sternly. "Your animagus form, is a manifestation of your personality itself, you cannot choose the animal. It chooses you. Your corporal Patronus, is something like a vision of what your form would be if you were to be able to complete this process. For example, Harry's Patronus is a stag, so theoretically, his Animagus form would be a stag as well. Now tell me, what is your corporeal Patronus?"

"A coyote." said Tess. Dumbledore looked at her questioningly. "It's a North American animal, it's the cousin to a wolf but a close relative to a dog. It's also sacred to Native Americans."

"Interesting." Dumbledore mused, stroking his long white beard. "Very interesting."

"What?" Tess asked.

"Nothing." Dumbledore dismissed. "Transforming is one thing but what really does the trick is the power of your will. You need to exercise your mind, so that's why for your first lesson, you are to either meditate or lie down meditating, take in the air, feel the moonlight on your face, feel yourself."

Tess laid down on the very center and took a big breath, preparing for her next step.

"Now what?" She asked.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Now simply do nothing but relax."

"What?" Tess asked confused. She certainly did not expect her first lesson to be laid-back.

"In order for you to rise to the challenge, you must learn to clear your mind." said Dumbledore. "I will come and get you, but for now, relax."

He left Tess in the open room while she muttered, trying very hard to relax not to fall asleep at the same time, "This **cannot** be happening."


	14. Chapter 14

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" said Ron to Harry as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Moody."

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Indeed, whenever Harry saw the two of them together - at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors - he had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon..."

"No you know what's better?" Tess asked. "Not a horned toad, a rabbit."

"That makes no sense." said Ron.

"Oh well it does to me." said Tess.

The Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"Been in the -"

"Library." Harry finished her sentence for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

They hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes. Harry was sitting next to Ron while Tess sat next to Hermione.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

They returned the books to their bags, Ron looking excited.

"This should be good." Tess muttered gleefully.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together and got out a piece of chalk and began writing.

"Alastor Moody." He said, upon writing "Professor Moody" on the board. "Ex Auror. Ministry Mal-contempt. And your new defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I am here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?"

"Right then," he said, when no one made a wisecrack. "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time Harry had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago...Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore...One year, and then back to my quiet retirement. So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say different as well, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

"And you need to find a better place to put that wad of chewing gum beside the underside of your desk Mr. Finnigan!"

Everyone looked to see Seamus looking befuddled. "No way." He said. "The old coot can see in the back of his head."

Moody spun around, throwing the chalk to Seamus. "And hear across classrooms! So...do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one...Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse. Perhaps this will show you why."

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. A black spider were scuttling around inside it. Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him - Ron hated spiders.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered sweetly, "Hello." He pointed his wand at the spider and muttered, "Engorgio." The spider grew three times of the original size. "Imperio!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a backflip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?" He waved the wand and the spider started dancing on Crabbe's head which got a few people laughing. "Don't worry, completely harmless." He waved the spider over to Parvati who was doing her best not to scream as the spider travelled up her arm.

"Hey Moody!" Tess yelled. "Put the spider over Ron's head!"

Moody snapped his fingers and said, "Good idea!" He waved it over Ron who looked like he was going to faint at any second. "SILENCE!"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..."

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Scores of witches and wizards have claimed that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding, under the influence of the Imperius Curse. But here's the rub: How does one sort out the liars? Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again, Tess' did and so, to Harry's slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville. "Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for Herbology."

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Correct, correct!" He said. "Come, come. Particularly nasty piece of work. The Torture Curse."

Neville nodded nervously as he walked towards the front, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly."

Harry looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were curled tight, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified. Tess was also looking horrified, and nothing scared Tess Crosswell easily.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch. Neville just walked back slowly and sat in his desk. Tess got up and gave Neville a hug before heading back to her own seat.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse...That one was very popular once too.

"Right...anyone know any others?"

Harry looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Tess' hand shook slightly as, for the second time, she raised it into the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her.

"Voldemort's signature move," Tess said quietly.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron. Harry, who didn't know exactly what it was until that moment, looked uneasy, gripping his wand. He already knew Voldemort was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of wizards but he never guessed until then, how.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the infamous curse The Dark Lord almost always used when he was in power. The last and worst. ...the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He could feel everyone else looking around at him too. Harry stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all...

So that was how his parents had died...exactly like that spider. Had they been unblemished and unmarked too? Had they simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies?

Harry had been picturing his parents' deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since he'd found out they had been murdered, ever since he'd found out what had happened that night: Wormtail had betrayed his parents' whereabouts to Voldemort, who had come to find them at their cottage. How Voldemort had killed Harry's father first. How James Potter had tried to hold him off, while he shouted at his wife to take Harry and run...Voldemort had advanced on Lily Potter, told her to move aside so that he could kill Harry...how she had begged him to kill her instead, refused to stop shielding her son...and so Voldemort had murdered her too, before turning his wand on Harry...

Harry knew these details because he had heard his parents' voices when he had fought the dementors last year - for that was the terrible power of the dementors: to force their victims to relive the worst memories of their lives, and drown, powerless, in their own despair...

Moody was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to Harry. With a massive effort, he pulled himself back to the present and listened to what Moody was saying.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now...those three curses - Killing, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the 3 Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a one way ticket and a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills...copy this down..."

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson, Harry thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but he hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione.

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Harry, Tess, and Ron.

"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.

"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" Tess said gently.

Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you all right?" said Hermione.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

"Neville." said Tess. "Let's cut the crap." She leaned in and whispered, "You saw someone get tortured with the Cruciatis didn't ya?" Neville, if possible, looked like he was going to die of fright. Cold sweat trickled down his face and his hands started trembling. "Hey." She said soothingly. "It's ok. I saw a friend suffer from being tortured from that curse. She lost her ability to speak forever." She gave Neville a big giant hug, Neville was starting to blink out tears.

"My parents lost their sanity." He whispered faintly.

Ron gave Harry a startled look.

"Neville, what -?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville, pulling Tess from him. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on...we can have a cup of tea..."

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry and Tess.

"You all right, are you, Potter? Sorry Crosswell, just want to have a man-to-man talk with him."

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.

"It's fine." said Tess.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending...well...come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but they didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive.

"Tess what happened with Neville?" Harry asked. "And what happened with your friend?"

"Suzy Pepper was an unlucky victim of the curse." said Tess. "She was a classmate of mine when I was about 8 ½. She was a very energetic and artistic girl who loved to draw. One day she was walking home from a friend's house when she got cornered by these broom racer witches and they threatened to beat the crap out of her if she didn't give them her money. She refused, so they beat her and one of them used the Cruciatis Curse on her."

"Oh Dear God." Hermione gasped, horrified by the story. "What happened to her?"

"Well the authorities arrived just in time." Tess explained. "But the torture left her vocally handicapped, she also had internal bleeding and not to mention she was in a medically induced coma for a whole week!"

"I'm so sorry." Harry said comfortingly.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron to Harry when they were near for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did the Killing Curse, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -"

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione nor Tess did not join in with Harry and Ron's conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. Harry and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry, who had been thinking of nothing else all through dinner, now raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses himself.

"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," said Ron. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash."

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry.

"I s'pose," Ron groaned.

They went up to the dormitory to fetch their books and charts, to find Neville there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. He looked a good deal calmer than at the end of Moody's lesson, though still not entirely normal. His eyes were rather red.

"You all right, Neville?" Harry asked him.

"Oh yes," said Neville, "I'm fine, thanks. Just reading this book Professor Moody lent me..."

He held up the book: Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.

"He thought I'd like this." He said.

Telling Neville what Professor Sprout had said, Harry thought, had been a very tactful way of cheering Neville up, for Neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything. It was the sort of thing Professor Lupin would have done.

Harry and Ron took their copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the common room, found a table, and set to work on their predictions for the coming month. An hour later, they had made very little progress, though their table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and Harry's brain was as fogged as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawney's fire.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," he said, staring down at a long list of calculations.

"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?"

"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

"Right," said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay...on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - burns."

"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll...erm..."

"Lose a treasured possession," said Harry, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of...erm...Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

"Yeah...cool..." said Harry, scribbling it down, "because...Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight."

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet."

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight..."

They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly.

Tess was sitting in front of the fire, looking at the flames, expecting something to come out. The feeling was paralleled in her Animagus lessons. To her, they seemed risky and exciting first but now they were getting dull. Her head was clear enough as it was so where was her inner animal? And what did it look like as not a Patronus?

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune he hadn't yet used, Harry saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy center of attention. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, and Harry was reminded of how they had sat together writing something back at the Burrow. He had thought then that it was another order form for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but it didn't look like that this time; if it had been, they would surely have let Lee Jordan in on the joke. He wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament.

As Harry watched, George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No - that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful..."

Then George looked over and saw Harry watching him. Harry grinned and quickly returned to his predictions - he didn't want George to think he was eavesdropping. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.

Tess got up and put her own finished homework away in her backpack when she noticed a brightly colored box.

"What's the box for?" she asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask." said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

"Spew?" said Tess, picking up a badge and looking at it. "You couldn't think of a worse name?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you two join - three," said Hermione.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"Huh." said Tess. "I would have gone with All Of Hermione's Ultra Club Names Are Stupid."

Rin barely even suppressed a snicker, then turned into roaring laughter. "That was good, ok. That was excellent!"

Harry and Hermione shot them both death glares that would have given Lucius Malfoy a run for his money.

"And we'll both shut up now." Tess said, elbowing Ron in the ribs.

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked turning his attention back to Hermione.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - Tess, you will be Vice President, since I'm the one starting this club, therefore I should be President-and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting."

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the pair of them, and Harry sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. Tess was pretending to listen but not really listen. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.

"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.

"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

"Maybe it's from him!" Tess exclaimed, carefully avoiding the usage of the word, 'Dad.'

Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:

Harry -

I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.

I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry.

Sirius

PS: Keep Quintessa close to you, she's gonna need the help she needs with everything that's going on.

Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry - what's up?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously.

"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks me and Tess in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with us! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

"Well if there's anything wrong with us, it's Tess." Ron quipped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tess asked dangerously low.

"Harry," Hermione began, in a scared sort of voice.

"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly running up the stairs. "See you in the morning."

"Well I am just saying Tess." said Ron defensively. "You do have a tendency to be a bit of a psychopath."

Hermione, smelling trouble ran straight between them.

"Ok guys enough." Hermione pleaded to a mad Tess. "Tess why don't we all go to bed?"

Tess seemed to calm down which made Ron very relieved he wasn't going to be crushed like a bug.

But as soon as she walked past Hermione, she brushed, in fact, bumped into Ron, who couldn't help but feel that something on him was loose, but what?

"Oh. Before I go up, looking for this?" She asked, waving a belt in front of Ron and Hermione. Specifically, the belt holding up Ron's **pants**. "It's called a hustle sweetheart."

"Wait!" Ron yelled as Tess ran up. "That's my-"

Ron tried to run but landed flat on his face, his pants already dropped on his ankles, showing his orange boxers to the entire world.

"Would you mind helping me out here?" Ron impatiently asked Hermione who was trying to very hard not to laugh and stay professional.

"I'm sorry." She said, fighting her smile and laughter. "It's just...you just...no one even noticed!"

"Is it safe to come down now?" Harry asked coming down the stairs in his pajamas.

"No please! Turn back!" Ron shouted, trying to hide his face that was red as his hair.

But it was too late for Harry was already gasping for breath as he laughed like he had never laughed before. He had to put his hand over his mouth just to avoid attention.

"Fine, don't help." said Ron, trying to get up and not lose his pants.

"It's alright Ron." said Harry, looking at Ron who was hoisting his pants up, with Hermione giggling a little. "But I have been debagged long enough to tell you (He put his hand on Ron's shoulder in sympathy.) You're never gonna live this down."

Ron tilted his head backwards and groaned out, "Merlin help me."


	16. Chapter 16

Early next morning, Harry woke with a plan fully formed in his mind, as though his sleeping brain had been working on it all night. He got up, dressed in the pale dawn light, left the dormitory without waking Ron, and went back down to the deserted common room. Here he took a piece of parchment from the table upon which his Divination homework still lay and wrote the following letter:

Dear Sirius,

I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, I was half asleep when I wrote to you last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head feels completely normal.

Harry

He then climbed out of the portrait hole, up through the silent castle (held up only briefly by Peeves, who tried to overturn a large vase on him halfway along the fourth-floor corridor), finally arriving at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower.

The Owlery was a circular stone room, rather cold and drafty, because none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings, and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye glared at Harry. He spotted Hedwig nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and hurried over to her, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor.

It took him a while to persuade her to wake up and then to look at him, as she kept shuffling around on her perch, showing him her tail. She was evidently still furious about his lack of gratitude the previous night. In the end, it was Harry suggesting she might be too tired, and that perhaps he would ask Ron to borrow Pigwidgeon or Tess to borrow Crucible, but Crucible might not be back from her journey to Johnnie, that made her stick out her leg and allow him to tie the letter to it.

"Just find him, all right?" Harry said, stroking her back as he carried her on his arm to one of the holes in the wall. "Before the dementors do."

She nipped his finger, perhaps rather harder than she would ordinarily have done, but hooted softly in a reassuring sort of way all the same. Then she spread her wings and took off into the sunrise. Harry watched her fly out of sight with the familiar feeling of unease back in his stomach. He had been so sure that Sirius's reply would alleviate his worries rather than increasing them.

"That was a lie, Harry," said Hermione sharply over breakfast, when he told her and Ron what he had done. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it."

"So what?" said Harry. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me."

"Drop it," said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.

"Maybe Hermione has a point Harry." said Tess, before whispering. "Dad's doing his best to not get caught and look out for us. You at least owe him that bit of info."

"Maybe." said Harry, digging into his toast.

Tess did her best not to worry about her father over the next couple of weeks. True, she could not stop herself from looking anxiously around every morning when the post owls arrived, nor, late at night before she went to sleep, prevent herself from seeing visions of her and Sirius, living in Grimmauld Place, as a family, surrounded by loved ones. Sirius, Harry, and Tess together would be unstoppable. But as much as she wished a family, as did Harry, they both knew that some dreams couldn't come true at all. Even so, she could afford to get distracted by her own desires, she couldn't get consumed by them. She wished she still had Quidditch to distract her; nothing worked so well on a troubled mind as a good, hard training session. On the other hand, their lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts.

To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"But - but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said - to use it against another human was -"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry and Ron grinned at each other. They knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Harry watched as, one by one, his classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Potter," Moody growled, "you next."

Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "Imperio!"

It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.

And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk...jump onto the desk...

Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring.

Jump onto the desk...

Why, though? Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain.

Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.

Jump onto the desk...

No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly...no, I don't really want to...

Jump! NOW!

The next thing Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping - the result was that he'd smashed headlong into the desk knocking it over, and, by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps.

"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody's voice, and suddenly, Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his knees seemed to double.

"Look at that, you lot...Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention - watch his eyes, that's where you see it - very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you! Now, let's see what America has taught you." He pointed to Tess. He raised the wand towards Tess.

The light feeling raised over Tess and she heard his voice, commanding her to run backwards but Tess was fighting it, even though the resistance was becoming easier said than done. She was starting to feel compelled toward the pull of the curse and she even moved her feet back. A rational part of her was telling her, that there was no way she could win this fight. But she in all refused to comply, after all, there was not a man alive who could tell her what to do.

And then it happened. Something inside of Quintessa, snapped. She arched back a little and thrust forward. Moody thought he was seeing things but for a split second, he saw Tess' eyes glowing. The purple iris portion was glowing a bright amethyst as she thrust forward, at the same time letting out a small scream, a force of energy strong as an ox burst forward with a loud CRACK and sent Moody flying back, crashing in the wall.

Half of the students went to see if Moody was ok, while the rest started fussing about Tess who then had fainted and had blood running down to her lips from her nose.

"What are you all standing around for?" Hermione asked. "We need to get her to the hospital!"

"Right." said Harry, picking her up with Ron.

"I've got it Mr. Potter." said Moody, limping over.

Harry only gave Moody a gaze of emerald green fire. "You've done enough." Harry spat.

Running as fast as they could, they reached ran to the Hospital Wing, Ron and Harry carrying Tess on both sides with Hermione right on their tail. They arrived to the wing in record time, where they saw Madam Pomfrey talking with Professor McGonagall through ajar doors.

"-we do need to take extra precautions." McGonagall's voice rang.

"Too right we do!" Pomfrey shrieked. "Just imagine, the injuries of the first-"

"Madam Pomfrey!" Ron exclaimed.

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry shouted.

"We need help!" Hermione exclaimed, worried.

"Oh dear!" Pomfrey exclaimed in horror while McGonagall prepared a bed and a glass of water for Tess as she was laid down.

"What happened?" She asked, while Pomfrey was dabbing Tess' nose.

"I-I don't know."

"What is going on?"

"I've never seen anything like this."

"Professor, Madam, please, tell me she's not in bad shape."

"Children!" McGonagall said, hushing them instantly. "Please, one at a time."

"McGonagall." said Harry. "I don't know what happened. We were in Defense Against the Dark Arts and it was her turn to experience the Imperious Curse."

"Ah blast Dumbledore and his allowance of these atrocious curses to be demonstrated to young children!" Pomfrey hissed, while McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Then something strange happened." said Hermione, sounding puzzled, and considering it was Hermione Granger, that was saying something.

"Yes Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked.

"She was fighting the curse, and then..this cracking sound, and then the next thing we know, Moody was being tossed back like a rag doll and Tess was unconscious with a nosebleed." Hermione explained.

"Either way." said Ron. "It's got something to do with her." He pointed to her. "I don't know how she did it but it looked like she turned the curse back on itself."

"Mr. Weasley." said McGonagall, going over and examining Tess. "That is not possible. Wandless magic or even magic that raw is way beyond the terms of a fourth year and there is no accidental magic strong enough to cause a reaction like that against the Imperious Curse."

"Then what do you suggest it is?" Harry wondered out loud.

"I don't know Mr. Potter." said Madam Pomfrey. "But I do know this; you three need to get to class and this one lying in bed, needs her rest. Now shoo!"

The rest of the lesson turned to be somewhat dull. Apparently Moody did have a soft spot as he spent the rest of the 30 minutes, recalling his own experience of catching people using the Imperious Curse and interrogating those who claimed to be under it's influence

"The way he talks," Ron muttered as he hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class as later, "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry, who was skipping on every alternate step. He had had much more difficulty with the curse than Harry, though Moody assured him the effects would wear off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid..." Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and went on. "No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

"More than that." Hermione said. "I don't know what's gonna happen to Tess. I've never heard of that amount of will to push it back in any of the books I've read."

"Hermione." said Ron. "If there's anything we've learned from being her friend, there's nothing Tess can't bounce back from."

"We know Ron." said Harry, looking far in the corridor, as if he could see Tess himself. "I'm just worried. What if she pushed herself too far that she can't come back?"

Luckily, by the time dinner rolled by, things started to look up. In fact, right at the middle of dinner, Tess woke up slowly, with a splitting headache.

"Ugh." She groaned. "What the hell happened?"

"Oh you're awake!" said Madam Pomfrey, dabbing her forehead with a moist towel. "Up you go." She hoisted Tess upward and brought a tray over which floated above her legs as if it were standing on a table. On the tray was a dinner dish of roast beef, mashed potatoes, some vegetables, utensils and a large bar of chocolate that was already resting on the nightstand.

"How do you feel?" The nurse asked.

"Like someone rammed my head into a broad sword." said Tess.

"Now remember." said Pomfrey as if she was a mother scolding her child lightly. "The chocolate is dessert, not an appetizer."

"Aw come on!" Tess complained lightly.

"Stay right here and eat your dinner." She said before leaving the Wing. Tess took the time to eat her dinner, and take note that she was the only one in the hospital. But the only question that was on her mind was, what was she doing there?

"Miss Crosswell!"

"Crosswell!"

"Quintessa!"

Bursting through the doors like a flood, was Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Snape.

"Don't crowd her!" Pomfrey said, taking the dinner plate and putting it on the cart, while Tess took the chocolate and put it on the floating tray so she wouldn't make a sticky mess.

"Are you feeling alright?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Are you ready to tell us what happened?" McGonagall asked.

"What happened?" Tess asked.

"Yes girl." Snape snapped at her. "You overexerted yourself on your magical core and so you wound up here."

"Severus." McGonagall said in a warning tone. "Quintessa, can you tell us what caused this to happen?"

Tess rubbed her head, trying to ease some of the dimming pain. "I...don't know. Any of it. I can't remember."


	17. Chapter 17

Tess returned to her House good as new, her head was still throbbing a little. When she entered the doors of the Great Hall, she was met with a swarm of people, asking what happened, if she was ok, and how she did it. Apparently the news spread all over the school, which wasn't a surprise considering that nothing really stayed secret at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Luckily she was saved by the Weasley Twins.

"Thanks guys." said Tess. "I owe ya one."

"Tess!" Harry said, running towards her and hugging her. "You have no idea to see that you're ok."

"Harry I passed out." said Tess. "I didn't die."

"Tess how did you do it?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know squat." said Tess.

"Hey lay off, she just got back." said Ron. "But seriously Tess how did you use wandless magic like that?"

"I don't know." said Tess. "I don't remember a thing. First Moody pointed his wand at me, then everything got all fuzzy and painful, and then everything went black."

When Tess walked out, she accidentally bumped into Malfoy.

"Hey!" He yelled. "Who would dare-" He stopped talking as soon as he saw Tess.

"My bad, man." She said sheepishly.

"You're ok." He said warmly. "You're really ok."

"I guess." She said.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

Just as Tess opened her mouth, Hermione's voice called out for her. "Gotta go."

On her way to class, Tess was approached by Winona Ryder, her dormmate. "I saw that." She said.

"Saw what?" Tess asked.

Winona raised her eyebrows. "Don't deny it. You like him?"

"Like him? Like who?" Tess asked. "I don't know this **him** of which you speak."

Winona chuckled. "You know who I mean. Here's a hint; he's known as ferret boy recently."

"I do not!" Tess said, blushing herself madly.

"Don't lie to yourself." said Winona. Even though we had the same class, her words were still ringing in Tess' ears. She knew that they liked each other but that much? Was she even ready to begin dating? The only time she felt this terrified was when she faced about 100 dementors last year.

As the days went by, all the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer -"

"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.

"And that's next year at that." Tess muttered so no one heard her.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"

Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself.

Harry and Ron were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class. She read out large portions of their predictions, commending them for their unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for them - but they were less amused when she asked them to do the same thing for the month after next; both of them were running out of ideas for catastrophes, so they turned to Tess and turns out, she was an unlimited generator of ideas for disaster.

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their "project," suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

Hagrid's smile faded off his face.

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book...I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."

The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from retorting. Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying, especially because Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year.

When they arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, the tallest of the three, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other two:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 24th OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY-

"Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"

STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.

"Only this Friday!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him..."

"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.

"Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament."

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student - and he's a prefect. He's like a Britain version of Johnnie. I do miss the original though."

She spoke as though this settled the matter.

"You only like him because he's handsome," said Ron scathingly.

"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione indignantly.

Tess gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!"

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Harry noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too.

"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

But Neville wasn't the only one McGonagall was giving a hard time.

"Uh could you repeat that again please?" Tess asked in horror when McGonagall pulled her back in the classroom when the lesson ended.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to wear the full uniform the entire day on Friday. Especially to welcome our guests." said McGonagall.

"What?" She whimpered. "Why?"

"I understand your need to express yourself in your clothes." said the Transfiguration teacher. "Even though that phrase of yours makes absolutely no sense, it's for one night and it shows respect for your school and others. At least do this for your House."

Tess just glowered at her before moaning, "Fine."

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffiindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed at Tess when he saw her in the full Hogwarts uniform, robes and all. "Who are you? You look familiar."

"Honestly Ronald, you couldn't be more dense." said Hermione. "That's Tess."

"You've gotta be kidding me." Tess muttered.

Harry, Ron, Tess and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices. Ron led the way over to them.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred. "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" said Ron, sitting down next to them.

"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," said George.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "Thought about trying to enter more?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before..."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you ain't," said Tess. "In competitions like this, the champions get awarded points based on how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."

"What are you on about?" said Ron, though Harry thought he knew what was coming.

"House-elves!" said Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"

Harry shook his head and applied himself to his scrambled eggs. His and Ron's lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione's determination to pursue justice for house-elves. True, both of them had paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, but they had only done it to keep her quiet. Their Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, they seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous. She had been badgering Harry and Ron ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?" she kept saying fiercely.

Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke. People had begged Tess, Harry and Ron to make her shut up but they wouldn't even though Ron wanted to get his opinion of it through her head, because she was their friend and they wouldn't do something like that to a friend. Except for when everyone but Tess knew who her father was. It was Harry's idea mostly after he learned that her father was his godfather and thought he was to blame for his parents' death.

Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Hermione.

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"

"No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to -"

"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world -"

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Harry looked up at once, and saw Hedwig soaring toward him. Hermione stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily.

Harry pulled off Sirius's reply and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully. Tess pulled off her dad's letter, her aunt's and her cousin's off Crucible. Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, Harry read out Sirius's letter in a whisper to Ron and Hermione.

Nice try, Harry.

I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself Don't forget what I said about your scar.

Sirius

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice.

"Hedwig'll attract too much attention," said Hermione at once. "She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding...I mean, they're not native birds, are they?"

Tess silently read her own letters. The first from Sara.

Tess,

I'm doing fine. A shame they don't have pizza in Wizarding UK but I can last. Your father sent me a letter saying he's ok. I offered to actually harbor a fugitive but he said no. God he's stubborn. I hope to see you at the Tournament. As a worker for the International Department, someone has to make an apperance. Mr. Bagman actually invited me-personally. Not everyday something like that happens.

See you soon!

Sara.

Tess rolled up the letter and read her cousin's.

Tess,

The Law Enforcement Acadamy is tough but I'm pulling through. My girlfriend Anna is amazing, humor, brains, and not too shabby if I say so myself. I heard that you like that Malfoy douche. Tell him for dear ol' Cousin Johnnie; he hurts you, I hurt him 3 times worse.

Rock n Roll

Johnnie.

Tess smiled, hearing from her own cousin before reading her dad's.

Pup,

It's good to hear from you again, but I'm concerned. You sounded unsure in your last letter of becoming an Animagus. Trust me, I was frustrated too at first. But you will get there. I know it.

Keep an eye on Harry will you? And please let me know on his scar.

Dad

Tess rolled up the letter and slipped it inside her robes, wondering whether she felt more or less worried than before. She supposed that her fugitive father managing to get back without being caught was something. She couldn't deny either that the idea that her dad was much nearer to her was reassuring; at least she wouldn't have to wait so long for a response every time she wrote.

"Thanks, Hedwig," Harry said, stroking Hedwig. She hooted sleepily, dipped her beak briefly into his goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair. And miss Crosswell, you have no idea how relieved I am you kept to your word."

"Unlike someone who doesn't keep secrets." She said eyeing Harry.

"You're not still mad about last year are you?" Harry asked rhetorically. "About that?"

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front...no pushing..."

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Harry and Tess, standing between Ron and Hermione in the fourth row from the front, saw Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first years.

"Nearly six," said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

"I hope it's not magic carpets." said Tess. "Cause that would be too cliche and that's saying something considering _Aladdin_ came out two years ago."

"I don't think so...not from that far away..."

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently.

They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Harry was starting to feel cold. He wished they'd hurry up...Maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance...He remembered what Mr. Weasley had said back at the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup: "always the same - we can't resist showing off when we get together..."

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers -

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid...it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.

"A Pegasus you mean?" Tess asked.

Both Tess and Dennis's guess was closer...As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Harry just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; he doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow - maybe simply because he was used to Hagrid - this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dore," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice, accented of course. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Harry could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered to Harry, grinning.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong..."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnigan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Tess, Harry and Ron.

"Negatory on the horses my Shamrock Priding friend." Tess said quickly. "That would be a copyright violation."

"Well, if they have is any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said Harry. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds..."

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then -

"Can you hear something?" said Ron suddenly.

Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed...

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks -and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor...

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool...and then Harry saw the rigging...

"It's a mast!" he said to Ron and Hermione.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle...but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Harry noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good...Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He didn't need the punch on the arm Ron gave him, or the hiss in his ear, to recognize that profile.

"Harry - it's Krum! I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

"Tess?" Dean asked the blonde American who had a few tears of joy running down her face.

"That Durmstrang ship." She said in joy. "Best. Dramatic Entrance. Ever."

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Harry saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked -

"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me -"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Really," Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

"I know right?" Tess asked. "Now you see my pain of anything femenine."

"You're feme-" Harry almost punched Ron in the ribs, shaking his head no. The last thing they needed was to make a scene.

"I'm getting his autograph if I can," said Ron. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"

"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," said Harry.

"Tess?" Ron pleaded.

"Not even a Sharpie." said Tess.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Maybe the weather's different over dans France." Tess finished with a pretty good French accent.

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -"

"What?"

"Too late," said Ron bitterly.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Harry could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As he watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum.

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though...bet he gets people fawning over him all the time...Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry...I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

"Ron, you don't even have a camp bed." Tess scolded.

Hermione snorted.

"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. Harry was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

"But there are only two extra people," Harry said. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"

"Eh?" said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed while Tess rolled her eyes at the disrespect of tradition. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and Harry saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you," said Ron.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

"Nice choice Tess." said Hermione. "Good quiche lorraine."

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep bloodred.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

"Yeah, he's gonna be seeing band aids for fingers." said Tess.

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. She had a small bedazzled headband sitting atop her head.

Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.

"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

"Je aimer votre bandeau." said Tess, surprising everyone with her French, pointing to the small headband.

Fleur seemed pleased with this. "Votre parlez francais? C'est bien!"

Tess then looked a little embarrassed. "Tristement, un petit."

But Fleur was still impressed. "Votre français est un petit rugueux, mais vous êtes bien."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"Tess." said Hermione. "I didn't know you spoke French."

"A little." Tess replied. "It never really came to subject."

"Forget that." said Ron. "She's a veela!"

"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

But she wasn't entirely right about that. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry without thinking. Cho happened to be sitting only a few places away from the girl with the silvery hair.

Tess took the opportunity to slap both Harry and Ron in the head.

"Ow!" They both shouted, rubbing the back of his head.

"She's a girl." said Tess. "Not a painting."

"And a beautiful one at that too." said Harry.

"I'm serious guys." said Tess. "Keep your hormonal eyes to your hormonal selves!"

"And when you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."

She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime.

"What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" said Hermione. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. The girl who looked like a veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Harry felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming. Several seats down from them, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "A few words of explanation must be said before we bring in the casket -"

"The what?" Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged.

"- just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "Ah yes. I am sorry to say that I have kept you all hooked on a line. There is a new rule this year, Mr. Crouch."

Crouch came out on front next to Dumbledore and said, "After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that for their own safety no student under the age of 17 should be allowed to enter. This decision is final."

There was an immediate uproar from just the Hogwarts students. Even the Slytherins weren't pleased.

"That's rubbish!" The Weasley Twins shouted.

"That's bullshit!" Tess shouted for the other students.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore boomed. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector." He waved his wand and the casket itself, seemed to melt into the biggest goblet anyone had ever seen, and when it was in full view and casket free, big bright blue flames erupted and began to dance in the goblet. "The Goblet of Fire."

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion merely write their name and school clearly upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour in one week." said Dumbledore. "On that night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the Great Hall between meals, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation. I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. If chosen, there's no turning back."

He turned to the Goblet of Fire that was now burning very brightly.

 

                                                                             "As soon this moment, The Triwizard Tournament has begun."


	18. Chapter 18

By Sunday then, a small amount of names of the 17 year olds living under the same roofs had submitted their names into the Goblet of Fire and the numbers continued to grow and grow as the week would progress. During a free period, The Golden Quartet found themselves in the Great Hall during Sunday afternoon before dinner.

Harry, Ron, and Tess all watched as a Durmstrang student submitted his name into the Goblet of Fire that was placed in the center of the Great Hall, all the tables were stacked against the wall. Everyone clapped for his bravery and for a 17 year old Slytherin student.

"Come on Cedric!" Some Hufflepuffs exclaimed, dragging the 7th year to the bright blue Age Line surrounding the Goblet where it was place on a large stand. Cedric walked to the flames, and dropped a piece of parchment in the fire. Of course, everyone clapped as Cedric left.

"Good luck Shovel Face." said Tess, high fiving him.

"Eternal glory." said Ron in awe. "Who would imagine it?"

"I'm pretty sure you would get bored if you heard people screaming your name every 2 minutes." said Tess.

"But still." said Ron. "Imagine in 3 years, and we'd be old enough to be chosen."

"Yeah still rather you or Tess than me." Harry quipped.

"Ha! Yes!" Fred's gleeful voice rang in the hall as everyone clapped, followed by his other half, both carrying small vials of green liquid. "We've done it."

"Cooked it up just this morning." said George.

Hermione, who was of course, reading a nice book, said, "It's not going to work." in a know-it-all tone.

Tess let out a cough that sounded like, "Killjoy."

"Oh yeah?" George quipped.

"And why is that Granger?" Fred asked expectantly.

"See this?" Hermione drew a circle while pointing to the blue line surrounding the Goblet. "This is an Age Line. Dumbledore drew it himself."

"So?" George asked.

Hermione gave an exasperated breath before slamming the book on her lap. "So, a genius couldn't possibly be fooled by a pathetic loophole as dimwitted as an Aging Potion."

"But that's why it's so brilliant." said Fred.

"Because he's so pathetically dimwitted." George finished. "Ready Fred?" He asked getting on a seat.

"Ready George." said George, as they both shook their bottles.

"Bottoms up." They chorused, drinking the bottles and jumping over the Age Line. After a moment, they cheered with everyone else and put their names into the Goblet of Fire. After another moment of silence, all seemed according to their plan until the flames of the Goblet swirled violently and blasted the Weasley Twins, sending them flying back and landing with growing white hair and beards, causing some people like Tess to wince.

"You said!" George accused.

"You said!" Fred yelled, tackling George but they both were wrestling and creating a spectacle. Pretty soon, everyone but Hermione who frowned at the immature boys, was yelling "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"You're all old school eh!" Fred taunted.

"Yeah but you look older!" George shot back.

But silence suddenly came like the thickest, coldest blanket laid upon the entire room when one Viktor Krum entered the room with Igor Karkaroff with a stoic expression that spoke thousands of words as he put his name into the fire. But just as he did, he caught the look of Hermione Granger.

Tess smiled, noticing the two interacting with their gazes. _This should be good._


	19. Chapter 19

With lightspeed, the week passed by, and before anyone knew it The Halloween feast was taking place and it seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was because of the anticipation of tonight's main event, Harry didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as he would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Now the moment, we've all been waiting for." said Dumbledore. "The champion selection. Before the Goblet can present those worthy, one more minute is needed to explain what happens to those who are chosen. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the trophy room on the left side" - he indicated the door near the staff table on the left corner - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes.

"Now the time has come." said Professor Dumbledore. He stuck out his hand, moved it slowly to the right, keeping everyone captivated as each hand was focused on whatever Dumbledore might have been summoning. Everyone watched, waiting...A few people kept checking their watches...

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.

"This is serious Jedi shit Dumbledore's doing." Tess muttered, impressed.

Dumbledore kept his steady pace and placed his hands on the Goblet itself as if establishing a connection. Suddenly, The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red. The fire began to dance as it built up and erupted like a volcano, except what came out of it wasn't lava but a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The Durmstrang Champion is," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the trophy room.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

"Eh, they'll live with it." said Tess.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the trophy room chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next...

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; flames erupted; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "Cedric Diggory!"

"No! " said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the trophy room. Even Tess was cheering, "Well done Cedric!" Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory, The Triwizard Cup!" He pointed to the teacher's table and a rag flew off immediately, bestowing a large glowing blue trophy cup that said, "WIZ" on it, that had everybody in a sea of excited cheers.

But suddenly, the teachers noticed something was wrong, as the blue flames of the Goblet started swirling around in a violent fashion.

"Uh Mione?" Tess asked, no confused and unsure. "Is it supposed to do that?" She pointed to the fire in the goblet that had just turned red again. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out -

"2 names; Harry Potter and Quintessa Crosswell."

Harry sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him. He was stunned. He felt numb. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard correctly.

Tess' breathing was shallow. She figured she was high on her stomach full of food, because there was no possible way she could be in the contest.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry and Tess as they sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

Harry and Tess turned to Ron and Hermione; beyond them, he saw the long Gryffindor table all watching them, openmouthed.

"I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't."

"I didn't either." said Tess. "You know me guys."

Both of them stared just as blankly back.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Quintessa Crosswell and Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Quintessa! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on, for goodness sake." Hermione whispered, giving Harry and Tess a slight push.

Harry and Tess got to their feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. Standing side by side, they set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and they could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon them, as though each were a searchlight.

"They're both cheats!" A voice shouted. "They're not even 17 yet!"

The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, they were right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon them.

"Well...through the door, you two," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

"Professor." Tess whispered. "I-I swear, I didn't do this."

"Tess come on." Harry grabbed her arm and led her to the trophy room.

They moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry or Tess, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at them as they passed like everyone else. The duo went through the door out of the Great Hall and found themselves walking down the stairs to the gates of the Hogwarts Trophy Room when Tess stopped, paralyzed with shock.

"Tess?" Harry nudged her.

Tess looked at him and asked the what seemed to be the unspoken question one of the night.

"Harry, what just happened?"


	20. Chapter 20

"Well let's see." said Harry in a sarcastic tone. "Somehow our names were submitted and this so called impartial judge chose us 14 year olds to be champions."

"I meant how." Tess snapped as the continued their descent. "How could this have happened? It's not like we put our own names in a Goblet of Fire that was guarded by a super powerful Age Line." When she noticed he wasn't talking to her she turned around to see him looking at her suspiciously. "What? You think **moi** did this?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Well Tess, I'm not saying you did anything and I promise you neither did I. But either way, someone did something."

The gates opened automatically, to reveal a room stacked with trophies from the past. Gold, silver and bronze trophies and other prized possessions of Hogwarts' history surrounded the champions including Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were who grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it Tess?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

She thought they had come to deliver a message. Neither of them didn't know how to explain what had just happened. They just stood there, looking at the three champions. It struck Harry how very tall all of them were.

"No." said Tess. "Fleur we're not messengers for Dumbledore."

"Then vy are yoo here?" Krum asked.

"Well." Tess laughed sheepishly. "About that...it's kind of a funny but true story. See the thing is-"

There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry and Tess by the arms and led them forward.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry and Tess's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...ladies," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth and fifth Triwizard champions?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed the two young witch and wizard. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Tess then Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

"Tess?" Fleur asked her friend now serious. "C'est vrai?"

"I am powerless to say otherwise." Tess said bluntly, looking down. "But I swear, neither of us did anything."

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned.

"Then how do you explain you two being here right now?" Cedric asked.

"Evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'Zey cannot compete. Zey 'r too young."

"Well...it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet...I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage...It's down in the rules, you're obliged...Harry will just have to do the best he -"

"Mr. Bagman." Tess pleaded, free of his grip. "Look I don't know how this happened, and neither does he. But I can't have him in the line of danger. Look, take him out, keep me in. Please, just don't have Harry in this. He didn't ask for this, so let him go and let me take the damage."

"No!" Harry exclaimed, getting in front of Tess.

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy et zis little girl ar' to compete also!"

Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dore?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Three Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave three champions. It is most abzurd."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"No one is to blame but those two, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for the American and Potter's determination to break rules. They have been crossing lines ever since they arrived here -"

Tess marched forward while Harry mouthed over to Cedric, "Help." Cedric, being a Hogwarts student, knew of the reputation of Tess Crosswell, a witch not to be crossed.

"Now just you hold the phone here Snivellus-" Harry's hand grabbed her mouth while Cedric grabbed her arms. Pretty much everyone looked at the American witch strangely.

"Please Tess." Harry pleaded. "Not tonight."

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry and Tess, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. Harry and Cedric let go of Tess and she stood up, her rage clearly vibrant.

"Did you either of you put your names into the Goblet of Fire?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Tess and Harry. They were very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for either of you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"No." said Harry and Tess vehemently.

"Ah, but of course zey are lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"They could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry or Quintessa could not have crossed the line themselves, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that each of them did not persuade an older student to do it for them, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

" 'Ell I think it iz zat American." Maxime said. "She seems ze type to do zomezing az reckless az zis."

"I agree." said Karkaroff sneering at Tess. "Americans. Shifty, sly, untrustworthy. You can never trust one."

"Watch it." Tess muttered.

"Mr. Crouch...Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament. The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract. They have no choice."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has three champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put their names in that goblet knowing they would have to compete if it came out. Or at least one of them"

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts three bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Crosswell and Potter," growled Moody, "but...funny thing...I don't hear either of them saying a word..."

Tess put her hands on her hips. "Well to be frank, I don't see a justified reason to complain about something where we have no say. Yeah, we're pissed, but magic rules are magic rules. Besides, we're pretty much in the contest as it is."

"Zee?" Burst out Fleur. "She zees it! Why should zey complain? 'Zey 'ave ze chance to compete, 'aven''t zey? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping one of those two are going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man...what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons.

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet..."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament, magic way beyond the terms of a fourth year...I'm guessing they submitted Potter and Crosswell's names under a fourth and fifth school, to make sure they were the only ones in their categories..."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously..."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember...

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Cedric, Quintessa, and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do that. They are as of tonight, Triwizard Champions of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes...the first task..."

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup. Tess thought he looked like he was practically done living.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Tess, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important...

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges."

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Normally this is where Tess would do a little victory dance at the prospect of no tests, but she was too serious at the moment to do so.

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.

"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment...I've left young Weatherby in charge...Very enthusiastic...a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Quintessa, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."


	21. Chapter 21

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"

"I s'pose," said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though his brain had been ransacked.

"Yay!" Tess drawled sarcastically.

"So...tell me..." said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you both get your names in?"

Tess groaned like an annoyed zombie. "For the 22nd time, we didn't do it!"

"We swear." said Harry, staring up at him. "We didn't put it in. We're both telling the truth."

"Ah...okay," said Cedric. Harry could tell Cedric didn't believe him. "Well...see you both, then."

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, he started to climb the marble ones.

"Harry." said Tess. "Now that we're in this, it's blood in and blood out, which means that even we're against each other, we've gotta stick together."

"Do you think they'll believe us?" Harry asked gloomily.

"Who?" Tess asked before realizing what they meant. "I don't know. But they've been our friends literally since the first day of our education. They should know us better than anybody."

"Well Ron might." said Harry hopefully.

"Hermione?" Tess asked now dreading the answer. Hermione may have been a bookworm to her but she was a bookworm who was also a great friend and the girls always there for each other, no matter what.

"I don't know." said Harry. "But with all of these challenges we don't even know, the whole school counting on us, and our basic instinct being surviving in this tournament, Tess, I think we're getting in too deep."

Tess scoffed. "Too deep? You of all people should know that this is nothing. **We'll** know when we're getting in too deep."

"Come on." said Harry. "Our friends are waiting for us."

As the duo walked up the marble changing staircases, Harry began to rethink the word "friends" wasn't used appropriately. Was anyone except Ron and Hermione going to believe him, or would they all think he'd put himself in for the tournament? Yet how could anyone think that, when he was facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than he had - when he was now facing tasks that not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? Yes, he'd thought about it...he'd fantasized about it...but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream...he'd never really, seriously considered entering...

But someone else had considered it...someone else had wanted them in the tournament, and had made sure they were entered. Why? To give them treats? He didn't think so, somehow...

To see him make a fool of himself? Well, they were likely to get their wish...

But to get either of them killed? No way, would he ever let that happen to Tess.

Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self? Couldn't someone have put Harry or Tess' names in the goblet as a trick, a practical joke? Did anyone really want them dead?

Harry was able to answer that at once. Yes, someone wanted Harry himself dead, someone had wanted him dead ever since he had been a year old...Lord Voldemort. But how could Voldemort have ensured that Harry's name got into the Goblet of Fire? Voldemort was supposed to be far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone...feeble and powerless...

But why go after Tess? Why go to all that trouble just to put her name in the contest? What could she have for the Dark Lord? No one in her family except her parents offended him in any way shape or form. But Voldemort never even met her, except the memory of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets but that was just a memory. But even then, he seemed interested in her, like he wanted to...exploit her in a way, dive into her talents and somehow use her for something. But what?

Yet in that dream he had had, just before he had awoken with his scar hurting, Voldemort had not been alone...he had been talking to Wormtail...plotting Harry's murder...and the capture of a girl…

Harry's heart ceased to beat when a new realm of possibilities sprung like a fountain in his mind. Could Tess be the girl Voldemort was after? But why? Did he want to kill her? It didn't seem like he wanted her. In fact, it seemed like he needed Tess alive for another mysterious purpose. Could that be the real reason why Tess was sent to another country untouched by the Dark Lord before she was even born? Did Sirius find out something about Voldemort's plans and didn't tell Morgan in order to protect her and her daughter?

Harry got a shock to find himself facing the Fat Lady already. He had barely noticed where his feet were carrying him. It was also a surprise to see that she was not alone in her frame. The wizened witch who had flitted into her neighbor's painting when he had joined the champions downstairs was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. She must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach here before him. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at them with the keenest interest.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champions, then?"

"Balderdash," said Harry dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry into the common room.

"Thanks." said Tess.

The blast of noise that met Harry and Tess' ears when the portrait opened almost knocked him backward. Next thing they knew, they were being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

"You both should've told us you two entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you two do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"I didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how -"

But Angelina had now swooped down upon them; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor -"

"Angelina." said Tess. "This is a big mistake."

"Mistake?!" shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers. "You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!"

"We've got food, Harry, come and have some -"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast -"

"Please, we're chill-"

But nobody wanted to hear that they weren't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that they hadn't put their names in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that they wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate...Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak. Harry couldn't get away; whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands...Even Tess, couldn't get away, no matter how nice she was being. Everyone wanted to know how they had done it, how they had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get their names into the goblet...

"I didn't," he said, over and over again, "I don't know how it happened."

"Alright." Tess said, fuming as she took a banner off of her head. "That's it." She grabbed Harry's hand and said, "Hold your breath." She snapped out her wand and muttered, " _Fumos_." Instantly, smoke poured like a tsunami and she waved it around enough to create a distraction so she and Harry could run upstairs into her common room while everyone was coughing. Before Tess went to her dorm, she whispered, " _Finite Incantatem_ " and instantly, the smoke cleared, leaving a very confused House of Gryffindor.

She wanted more than anything to at least find Hermione, to find a bit of sanity, but neither of them seemed to be in the common room.

To his great relief, he found Hermione was sitting on her bed, reading a book in the otherwise empty dormitory, still fully dressed. She didn't even look up when Tess closed the door behind her and cleared her throat.

"Hello." Hermione said blankly.

"Where'd you go?" Tess asked.

Hermione slapped her book shut and didn't even look at Tess as she undid her tie. "I went back to the common room Quintessa."

Immediately, Tess knew something was wrong with her friend. "Ok Hermione, spill. What's the deal?"

"Oh nothing." Hermione said, moving to her trunk, sorting things. "Nothing's the deal. My best friend did something reckless and without thinking, again. She gets caught up with the Boy Who Lived in dangerous events, again. And not only that, she's competing in a contest she thinks she can get her way around, **again**."

"Ok Hermione." Tess said angrily. "What is this? You're jealous? Mad? Guess what, I'm mad too but with what happened tonight. And don't you blame Harry for this."

"Oh yes Tess." Hermione said dangerously, crossing her arms. "I'm not blaming Harry, I'm blaming you because you, _mon amiee_ , reminded me tonight, **just** how much of a show off you really are."

Tess narrowed her eyes at the brunette, her anger bubbling inside her. "You think I'm a show off? What did I ever do to to earn that title?"

Hermione scoffed. "Oh please, every day you wake up a show off, and every night you go to sleep even more of a show off. Do not think I didn't notice that the first time we met that I noticed just how insecure you really are."

"Insecure?" Tess challenged. "That's the best you can do?"

"Oh yes Quinnie." Hermione mocked. "I knew it when I picked up the signs, your disrespectful attitude-"

"Now wait just a second."

"Your violent tendencies."

"Hold on, that's not even-"

"And your profound language! You may seem like a tough as nails girl but deep down, and you know it, you're a scared little girl who's has to lash out at everything because she's so afraid of feeling scared and being seen as weak. That's the real reason why you can't even wear a skirt or a dress, because you're a coward!"

There was a heavy silence, like the heaviest downpour of the a hurricane, drowning and weighing on everybody in uneasiness. They say blood is thicker than water, but the tension in the room was the heaviest liquid of all.

"Ok." said Tess. "Sure. You can call me a coward if you want, but just so we're clear, the only real insecure person is **you**."

"Turning my words against me." Hermione said sardonically. "How clever of you."

Tess held up Hermione's book, _The Triwizard Testament_. "You know Hermione, something tells me that before even got on the Hogwarts train, you never had a single friend."

"Now don't you dare step there." said Hermione.

"I bet that books, were your paradise by also your security blanket because no one would be friends with a bookworm swimming in her own pride. When I first met you, I met the girl I'm standing in front of right now. A nosy, stuck up, know-it-all who thinks she knows a single clue about the real world but in reality, she doesn't. That's what the difference between us really is; I have experience, you just study a lot."

"School **is** preparation for the real world." Hermione said. "As is books."

"Books can only take you so far." said Tess, examining the book before gazing at her in fury. "Until you're on your own. Remember the first night we became friends? First year? You were face to face with a troll, with the knowledge and the spells, but not actual stomach to do what was necessary to defend your own ass. Who did that for you? Ron, Harry, and yours truly. So why can't you get that head of yours out of your ass and start believing that the girl, who has been there for you for the past 3 years might actually be telling the truth because she was put in a position she had no control over?!"

"Because it's something I **know** you would do!" Hermione shouted. "When things like this happen, guess who is the first person to always prove her strength? You! So you put your name and Harry's into the Goblet of Fire! It's the only logical explanation!"

Tess only laughed at her. "And you call **me** insecure. You may have had friends but you're still the same old Hermione Granger." She threw the book to the wall and Hermione rushed to it, picking it up and brushing off any dust. "You rely on books, you rely on rules, you rely on logic, you rely on **fact** , because the one thing you don't know is how to have faith, **that** is what friends require, not just knowledge. So why can't you get out of your brain and look in your heart to find some faith in your friend for once in your life? You've known me and Harry for the past three years to know we would never do something like this."

"Because according to the dictionary, faith is a belief based on an absence of information." Hermione countered. "It invites disaster."

"You know Hermione." said Tess, walking to her own bed, two beds away from Hermione's. "I never realized how much of a bitch you could be."

"Good." Hermione quipped. "At least **one** of us realizes what she really is."

Tess stormed up to Hermione and looked at her right in the eyes. "If you think that you can assume what me and Harry would do in any situation, then you were never even a decent friend to begin with."

"I'm only describing what I saw!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Fuck you!" Tess said behind closed curtains.

"Fine!"

"GOOD!"

After a few minutes, once Tess was out of her jammies, and curled in bed, she heard a light knocking.

"WHAT?!" She yelled, clearly not in the mood to deal with any more drama.

"Um..Tess.." A terrified whisper that sounded like Lavender. "Can we..come in now? Is it over?"

Tess didn't need to be Hermione to know that they had eavesdropped on the entire conversation. "Yeah, whatever." And with that, Tess Crosswell rolled to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

Meanwhile, whilst everyone was sound asleep, only one argument could have been held in a distinct tower on a night like this.

"This can't go on Albus." said Professor McGonagall, in Dumbledore's office. "First the Dark Mark, now this?"

"What do you suggest Minerva?" Albus asked the Deputy Headmistress.

Minerva only scoffed. "Put an end to it! Don't let them compete!"

"You heard Barty, the rules are clear." Dumbledore reminded the Transfiguration teacher.

"To the Devil with Barty and his rules!" McGonagall said. "And since when did you accommodate the Ministry?"

"Headmaster." Snape stepped up. "I too find it most difficult to believe this mere coincidence, however, if we are to truly understand the meaning of these events, perhaps we should let them unfold."

McGonagall could only let out what could have just been described as a squeak of a "what?" "Do nothing? Offer them up as bait? Potter and Crosswell are children! Not pieces of meat!"

"I agree...with Severus." Dumbledore said. "Professor Moody, keep an eye on those two."

"I can do that." said Moody.

"We must all be patient and calm." said Dumbledore taking down a memory and placing it in the Pensieve. "They must be anxious enough as it is. Knowing what lies ahead, well we all are."


	23. Chapter 23

Tess woke up feeling a bit better, thinking that she was going to have a good day until she remembered. She was an underage Triwizard Champion and she had the biggest girl fight in her life. She didn't even want to know if Hermione was in the dorm or not.

When Harry woke up on the next morning, it took him a moment to remember why he felt so miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled over him. He sat up and ripped back the curtains of his own four-poster, intending to talk to Ron, to force Ron to believe him - only to find that Ron's bed was empty; he had obviously gone down to breakfast.

Harry dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The moment he appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the Gryffindors, all treating him like some sort of hero, was not inviting; it was that, however, or stay here and allow himself to be cornered by the Creevey brothers, who were both beckoning frantically to him to join them. He looked around, wondering if Tess receiving the torment he feared, because she was nowhere to be found. He walked resolutely over to the portrait hole, pushed it open, climbed out of it, and found himself face-to-face with a girl wearing a black hooded sweatshirt to hide her face. She pulled it back to reveal Tess.

"Mornin'," she said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. "I brought you this...Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," said Harry gratefully.

They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Tess told Harry exactly what had happened after she had gone to the girls dormitory the night before. Harry was first shocked, then furious then sympathetic.

"Well, try to look at it from Hermione's perspective." he said when she'd finished telling him about the scene in the chamber off the Hall.

"Perspective of a bossy bitch?" Tess asked. "I don't think so. Try looking from Ron's perspective."

"How?" Harry said irritably. "Have you seen him?"

"Erm...yeah...he was at breakfast," she said.

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

Tess let out an "I don't know" sound.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He copied the same sound.

"I didn't talk to him if that's the answer you want." said Tess. "He just sneered at me."

"I knew it." said Harry. "He's being the biggest git I've ever seen."

"Isn't it obvious?" Tess asked. "He's jealous."

"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," said Tess patiently, "it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. It's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously. "I know you don't ask for it, but Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home and pretty much here- he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many..."

"Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it...People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go..."

"Oh I'm not telling him anything," Tess said shortly. "Tell him yourself."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. Maybe Hermione has a point."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Tess asked hotly.

Harry pondered in deep thought, looking at Tess, and remembering all the times he had seen her broken and helpless. He couldn't think of anything, even when they were faced in times of peril. "It all makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Tess asked.

"I definently don't agree with the way Hermione delivered it." said Harry. "But what Hermione said to you last night, was something that you really needed to hear."

"So you're taking her side now?" Tess asked.

"No I don't know why she's actually mad at you." said Harry. "But I do know now where her argument comes from."

"And?"

"I don't think you're a show off." said Harry. "But I do know now why you always put yourself out there, because I don't recall ever see you feeling scared."

"Yeah, because it's what I do." said Tess. "Be a bitchin badass. It's who I am."

"Is it?" Harry asked. "Tess, when was the last time you ever let your guard down?" Tess frowned, trying to find an answer. "That's what I thought. Now I think I understand why you're always fighting back. It's because you're constantly fighting yourself, because I don't think you've ever let yourself **feel** scared for even a moment in your life."

"What you mean?" Tess asked. "Of course I get scared."

"Yes but you bottle it up and turn it into a weapon or a motive." said Harry. "I think you wake up every day, look in the mirror and see this weak pathetic loser, and so you go when you've got the chance to prove that you're the opposite of how you really see yourself."

"That's not true!" Tess yelled.

"Tess." Harry said putting up his hand to shut her up. "I may not have seen you with a Boggart, but I know enough now to know what it is; **feeling** fear."

"I so cannots deal of this." Tess said giving Harry a small box, then starting walking away, finally deciding enough was enough.

"Take it from me." said Harry stopping her. "It's one thing to be afraid of fear itself, but another to deny yourself an emotion no one wants to face, but it's something that makes you human."

Instantly, Tess took off, running towards the school. No one saw it, but under the hood covering her face, Tess was fighting a few tears.

Harry went up to the Owlery. Tess had given Harry a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, then strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, and Harry sat down against a wall and wrote his letter. He seriously didn't want to bring his godfather into any more risk of getting caught but Tess needed him more than he did.

Dear Sirius,

You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes - I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Friday night me and Tess got picked as fourth and fifth champions. I don't know who put our names in the Goblet of Fire, because neither of us did. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff.

When you read this, write immediately to Tess. I don't know what else to do but you seem like the only person who can talk to her. She and Hermione got into a pretty nasty fight last night, and I figured out with Hermione's help how she deals with anxiety, she attacks other people, and I'm afraid that one day, it might not be enough and she might start attacking herself, more than she already is. Please, reach out to her. She needs a parent more than she needs a friend. Now more than ever.

He paused at this point, thinking. He had an urge to say something about the large weight of anxiety that seemed to have settled inside his chest since last night, but he couldn't think how to translate this into words, so he simply dipped his quill back into the ink bottle and wrote,

Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak - Harry

"Finished," he told himself, getting to his feet and brushing straw off his robes. At this, Hedwig fluttered down onto his shoulder and held out her leg.

"I can't use you," Harry told her, looking around for the school owls. "I've got to use one of these."

Hedwig gave a very loud hoot and took off so suddenly that her talons cut into his shoulder. She kept her back to Harry all the time he was tying his letter to the leg of a large barn owl. When the barn owl had flown off, Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig, but she clicked her beak furiously and soared up into the rafters out of reach.

"First Ron, then Hermione, then Tess, then you," Harry said angrily. "This isn't my fault."

If Harry had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of him and Tess being champions, the following day showed him how mistaken he was. Harry could no longer avoid the rest of the school once he was back at lessons - and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry and Tess had entered themselves for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. Ron wasn't talking to Harry either. Hermione coudln't even look at Tess, so she left him alone, leaving Harry and Tess pretty much all they had of each other. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House.

Things were not looking so good for Tess either. She started getting into fights, more than ever, and started using swear words often the time in her sentences, even though Harry was there, being the supportive surrogate brother he was, she still was missing her friends, even if she didn't want to admit it.

He would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins too - the first time he would come face-to-face with them since becoming champion.

Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place.

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of Harry. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer...Half the Triwizard champions have died...how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, but Malfoy had to stop there, because Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Malfoy completely.

"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry - you come here an' help me with this big one..."

Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry and Tess away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, "So - yer competin', yeh two. In the tournament. School champions."

"Two of the champions," Harry corrected him.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.

"No idea who put yeh both in fer it?"

"You believe we didn't do it, then?" said Tess, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude she felt at Hagrid's words.

"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh both say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer two, an' all."

"Wish we knew who did do it," said Harry bitterly.

The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs- but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. Harry assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because his classmates certainly weren't; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.

"Ah, I don' know, Harry," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. "School champion...everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"

Harry didn't answer. Yes, everything did seem to happen to him.

"Hello show off." Pansy sneered at Tess, walking in front of her, when she was walking from her numerology class, so Harry wasn't with her.

"Screw you." Tess muttered.

"Ooh language." A Hufflepuff 6th year stopped by saying. "That's not gonna last you in the tournament, it could help Cedric though, he **is** the real champion. And you? You're just a wannabe."

"Get of my way please afores I ends you." said Tess.

"Or what?" A Ravenclaw second year taunted. "You'll punch us? Have you ever dueled? I don't think so."

"Agreed." said Pansy. "And once you get out of the way, Malfoy will be all mine. That won't take long though."

"I don't give a damn about Malfoy." Tess snarled. "But you know what just crossed my mind? That you two, whose names I wouldn't care to know, and you Parkinson, have a donkey's ass for a face."

Everyone who was listening, gasped while Pansy, at the moment, pushed Tess, who retaliated by side kicking her back in the stomach, and was stopped by the 6th year Ravenclaw muttering, _Levicorpus_ and Tess had the weirdest feeling of feeling like a cloud, and floating.

"Listen here Crosswell." Pansy shouted so that the entire hall could hear, and true to her intentions, everyone was watching. "You are worthless Yank rubbish, you were born Yank rubbish, you'll die Yank rubbish and only the flies will mourn you." The mean girls walked off, taking off the spell, making Tess fall down on her face, causing everyone in the corridor but the few Gryffindor to laugh at her. Said House just stood there and stared at the embarrassed girl who was getting up. Tess had never been so humiliated in her life.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" Boomed Professor McGonagall as she marched over to the fallen student. Everyone stopped laughing the moment they saw her. "What is it you all find amusing?" No answer came from anybody's frightened expressions, they were all afraid to face McGonagall's wrath. "Get to class, NOW!" Everyone went on their own business as McGonagall went from scary teacher mode to kind grandmother. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Tess snapped, checking for blood, and finding none. "Thanks though."

"Crosswell if you ever need to talk to someone-"

"I SAID I'M FINE!" Tess yelled, her purple iris' glowing a bright neon purple, bright enough to glow in the dark. McGonagall stumbled back, looking at her in shock and confusion as she stormed through the crowds to her next class, meeting up with Harry of course. When he asked if she was ok, she put on a smile, thinking that she didn't need to worry him.

The next few days were some of Harry's worst at Hogwarts. The closest he had ever come to feeling like this had been during those months, in his second year, when a large part of the school had suspected him of attacking his fellow students. But Ron had been on his side then as had Tess. He thought he could have coped with the rest of the school's behavior if he could just have had Ron back as a friend, but he wasn't going to try and persuade Ron to talk to him if Ron didn't want to. Nevertheless, he was grateful to have Tess.

He could understand the Hufflepuffs' attitude, even if he didn't like it; they had their own champion to support. He expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins - he was highly unpopular there and always had been, because he had helped Gryffindor beat them so often, both at Quidditch and in the Inter-House Championship. But he had hoped the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric. He was wrong, however. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the goblet into accepting his name.

Then there was the fact that Cedric looked the part of a champion so much more than he did. Exceptionally handsome, with his straight nose, dark hair, and gray eyes, it was hard to say who was receiving more admiration these days, Cedric or Viktor Krum. Harry actually saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krum's autograph begging Cedric to sign their school bags one lunchtime.

Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, Hedwig was refusing to come anywhere near him, Professor Trelawney was predicting his and Tess' deaths with even more certainty than usual, and he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework - the only person to get any, apart from Neville. Tess did fine in that, despite her simmering rage that was slowly cooling down.

"It's really not that hard, Harry," Tess tried to reassure him as they left Flitwick's class - she had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though she were some sort of weird magnet for board dusters, wastepaper baskets, and lunascopes, which of course, earning a mean glare from Hermione. "You just weren't concentrating right -"

"Wonder why that was," said Harry darkly as Cedric Diggory walked past, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls, all of whom looked at Harry and Tess as though he were a particularly large Blast-Ended Skrewt. "Still - never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon..."

Double Potions was always a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry and Tess as much as possible for daring to become school champions, was about the most unpleasant thing either one of them could imagine. He had already struggled through one Friday's worth, with Tess sitting next to him intoning "ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" under her breath, and he couldn't see why today should be any better. They had to hold on to each other to keep them from tearing other people apart. But once Pansy said out loud what she did to Tess, Harry almost got Pansy in a fit of blind rage, and then, something strange happened. As Harry was being threatened with detention from Snape, Tess felt her rage build and build, with her fist tightening and then suddenly, the flame under Pansy's cauldron erupted, the silver cauldron being consumed by fire. Luckily Snape put it out before anything happened.

When he and Tess arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment Harry thought they were S.P.E.W. badges - then he saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY-

THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

"Like them, Potter?" said Malfoy loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

POTTER AND CROSSWELL STINK!

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER AND CROSSWELL STINK was shining brightly all around Harry and Tess. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.

"Oh hilarious," Tess said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "Go to hell for all I care!"

"Come on Tess." said Harry, pulling her away.

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry or Tess either.

"Want one, Crosswell?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Tess. "I've got loads." Harry went to face him off, but Tess pulled him back. "Forget winning Potter, your parents must be glad they're rid of you."

Tess and Harry looked at each other in shock before, Tess let go of him and raised her arms, as if to say, "Ok, I give up." Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts -"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled.

"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles - Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!"

Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her; Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth - already larger than average - were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin - panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"Jesus Hermione." Tess said, panicking. "I'm so sorry."

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir -"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"- and he hit Goyle - look -"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth - she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time; lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.

"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

Harry's ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. He passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too - for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Harry alone at his table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER AND CROSSWELL STINK! flashed once more across the room.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him...If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse...he'd have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching...

"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."

Snape's eyes met Harry's, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. Harry imagined picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head - And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on Harry's thoughts.

It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" said Snape curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs." Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink.

"Sir - sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."

Harry would have given anything he owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. He chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir - he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Cohn. "All the champions..."

"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter - take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door. As he walked through the Slytherin desks, POTTER AND CROSSWELL STINK! flashed at him from every direction.

"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry had closed the dungeon door behind him. "Isn't it, though? You and the American being champions?"

"Yeah, really amazing," said Harry heavily as they set off toward the steps into the entrance hall. "What do they want photos for, Colin?"

"The Daily Prophet, I think!"

"Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what I need. More publicity."

"Good luck!" said Colin when they had reached the right room. Harry knocked on the door and entered.


	24. Chapter 24

He was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; four of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing a green and green jewelry. Tess thought she looked like a giant green apple.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Tess was just standing and looking around. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.

Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

"Ah, here he is! Champion number five! In you come, Harry, in you come...nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment -"

"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot."

The other champions were now sitting in chairs near the door, and he sat down quickly next to Tess who was next to Cedric, hooking up at the velvet-covered table, where four of the five judges were now sitting - Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry hooked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. Harry and Tess had met Mr. Ollivander before - he was the wand-maker from whom they had bought their own wands over three years ago in Diagon Alley.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.

"Hmm..." he said.

He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches...inflexible...rosewood...and containing...dear me..."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry, making a mental note to tell Ron...then he remembered that Ron wasn't speaking to him.

 _Ok_. Tess thought. _That actually explains a few things._

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands...however, to each his own, and if this suits you..."

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn...must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches...ash...pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition...You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.

Harry looked down at his own wand. He could see finger marks all over it. He gathered a fistful of robe from his knee and tried to rub it clean surreptitiously. Several gold sparks shot out of the end of it. Fleur Delacour gave him a very patronizing look, and he desisted.

Tess didn't care if there was a scratch on her wand, it was her tool and should be respected as something that was not just bought.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please."

Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hmm," said Mr. Olhivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I...however..."

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes...hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees...quite rigid...ten and a quarter inches...Avis!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast hike a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Miss Crosswell." said Mr. Ollivander. Tess handed him her wand and he inspected it, up closely. "This is a wand I sold, I remember, made with wood from the Liberty Tree, springy...11 and a half inches with a dragon string heart core. I am assuming you know the full capacity of it's power?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." said Tess. "The fire whip and all."

Four summers ago, when she was 11, she had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop when she chose Hogwarts to buy a wand. Mr. Ollivander had taken her measurements and then started handing her wands to try. Tess had waved 3 wands, until at last she had found the one that suited her - this one, which was the last wand around that was made by the Liberty Tree, which was burned down and it's wood was used to make wands. Out of it's destruction, a secret weapon was discovered in her second year; whenever she was in mortal peril, she could conjure up a whip of fire that could potentially smite her enemies. This made of Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that Tess had been so compatible with this wand. "Interesting," he had said, "interesting,"

The wandmaker made red, white, and blue fireworks explode out of her wand. "Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Tess back her wand. "Which leaves...Mr. Potter."

Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.

"Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ohlivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

Harry could remember too. He could remember it as though it had happened yesterday...

Four summers ago, on his eleventh birthday, he had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop with Hagrid to buy a wand. Mr. Ollivander had taken his measurements and then started handing him wands to try. Harry had waved what felt like every wand in the shop, until at last he had found the one that suited him - this one, which was made of holly, eleven inches long, and contained a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that Harry had been so compatible with this wand. "Curious," he had said, "curious," and not until Harry asked what was curious had Mr. Ollivander explained that the phoenix feather in Harry's wand had come from the same bird that had supplied the core of Lord Voldemort's.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody, even Tess when he found out about her wand. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort's wand was something it couldn't help - rather as he couldn't help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn't about to tell the room about it.

Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end -"

Feeling that at last something had gone right today, Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?" He nodded to the green clad woman who had bejeweled glasses, blonde hair, red lips and crimson red nails.

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry and Tess again. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry and Tess into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, they were free to go.

They went down to dinner. Hermione wasn't there - he supposed she was still in the hospital wing having her teeth fixed. He ate with Tess at the end of the table, then returned to Gryffindor Tower, thinking of all the extra work on Summoning Charms that he had to do.


	25. Chapter 25

The next day, the interviews for the Daily Prophet came and all the champions were in the same classroom as for the photo shoot. Out waltzed in a woman in a magenta dress.

"What a charismatic little team." she said, moving towards them and shaking their hands. "I'm Rita Skeeter. I write for the Daily Prophet. But of course you know that, don't you? It's **you** we don't know. You're the juicy news. What quirks, lie beneath those rosy cheeks?" She rubbed Fleur's cheek and slightly tapped it. "What mysteries do those muscles mask? Does courage, lie beneath those curls?" She rubbed Cedric's head. "Do daring souls reside in that dauntless facade?" She inspected Tess' face. "In short, what makes a champion tick?" She hugged Harry and Cedric close. "Me myself and I want to know. Not to mention my ramid readers. So, where shall we begin?" No one gave an answer. "Start with the youngest, ladies first." She grabbed Tess by the arm and led her out of the classroom, leaving Harry with the other champions in an awkward silence.

"Do 'ou think zis vill take long?" Fleur asked.

"Probably." Cedric said.

"I vood like to get this out of the vay." said Krum. "Interviews ar pointless."

"What do you think Harry?" Cedric asked.

"Well I'll just accept what comes with being champion." said Harry a little irritated with more publicity.

"Vy are yoo embaressed?" Krum asked. "Yu two shuld be greatvul vor this oppertoonnity."

"Opportunity to be put in more publicity." said Harry. "Which is the opposite of what everyone thinks I want."

There was the familiar squeak of sneakers and only Tess arrived, looking better than she had before.

" 'Ere iz Rita?" Fleur asked.

"Ah her?" Tess asked. "She's...on lunch break."

"But it's not even lunch yet." Cedric said confused.

But to be specific, I don't think any of us are going to get any interviews anytime soon." Tess said, grabbing her bag.

Harry was the only one who was worried, and he should be. "Tess, what did you do?" He asked, already fearing the answer.

"What do you mean Harry?" Tess asked, with convincing innocence. "Come on Harry, we've got gotta get to class."

As the two headed out, the other two champions looked at the young fourth year wizards with interest.

"Pour un Americane." said Fleur. "Zat is vun strange girl."


	26. Chapter 26

As Tess walked with Harry, he stopped in their conversation to ask his best friend, "So Tess, what exactly in your interview?"

"Well let's just say that my mischievous chickens have come home to roost."

_Flashback..._

_"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Tess' upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering her out of the room again and opening a nearby door._

_"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see...ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."_

_It was a broom cupboard. Tess stared at her._

_"Come along, dear - that's right - lovely," said Rita Skeeter again, perching herself precariously upon an upturned bucket, pushing Tess down onto a cardboard box, and closing the door, throwing them into darkness. "Let's see now..."_

_She unsnapped her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, which she lit with a wave of her wand and magicked into midair, so that they could see what they were doing._

_"You won't mind, Tess, if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? It leaves me free to talk to you normally..."_

_"Uh no" said Tess, not even caring._

_Rita Skeeter's smile widened. Tess counted three gold teeth. She reached again into her crocodile bag and drew out a long acid-green quill and a roll of parchment, which she stretched out between them on a crate of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. She put the tip of the green quill into her mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the notepad, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering slightly._

_"Testing...my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."_

_Tess hooked down quickly at the quill. The moment Rita Skeeter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the notepad:_

_Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, who's savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations -_

_"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, yet again, and she ripped the top piece of parchment off, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into her handbag. Now she leaned toward Tess and said, "So, Quinnie, if I may call you that...what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"_

_"Well I didn't really enter, enter." said Tess again. "And, it's Tess."_

" _I see." said Rita Skeeter firmly. "Now - why did you decide to enter the tournament, Tess?"_

_"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," said Tess. "I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there."_

_Rita Skeeter raised one heavily penciled eyebrow._

_"Come now, Quinnie, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel. Especially a lady one."_

_"But I didn't enter," Tess repeated already annoyed at this woman. "Either way, I'm not pleading the fifth on that one."_

_"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" said Rita Skeeter, getting past her confusion on Tess' phrase, "pleading the fifth". "Excited? Nervous?"_

_"Of course I'm nervous." said Tess. "Who the hell wouldn't be?"_

_"Champions have died in the past, haven't they?" said Rita Skeeter briskly. "Have you thought about that at all?"_

_"Well, even with all the safety, I might get a broken bone or two" said Tess._

_The quill whizzed across the parchment between them, back and forward as though it were skating._

_"You're the only American student here, surrounded by Bulgarians, British wizards, and the lovely French." said Rita Skeeter, watching him closely. "How would you say that's affected you?"_

" _Eh, I'm used to being Queen Freak of other freaks." Tess said sardonically._

_"Do you think that it was the trauma of your mother's murder that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous competition? To live up to your independence? Do you think that perhaps you were tempted to enter the Triwizard Tournament because -"_

_"Uh, what are you talking about?" said Tess, starting to feel irritated and confused on the surprising apparent details on her mother's accident._

_"Can you remember your parents at all?" said Rita Skeeter, talking over her._

_"My mom yes," said Tess. "My dad was never in the picture."_

_"How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Triwizard Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?"_

_Tess was feeling really annoyed now. Who was Rita to ask how her parents would feel about this? Her mother would be worried definitely, her father...would probably be grilling her with questions about this. And who did this woman think she was, telling lies on her how her own mother died? She had seen her burnt charred body that night. She could feel Rita Skeeter watching her very intently. Frowning, she avoided her gaze and looked down at words the quill had just written:_

_A cruel light fills those startlingly bright purple eyes as our conversation turns to the mother she lost so long ago, and the father who abandoned her at birth. Poor thing probably has no friends._

_That's enough. Tess thought. Time to do what the Black Family does best, revenge._

" _Hey can I see that quill for a second?" Tess asked, acting with wonder. "Now that I'm here, I've never seen a Quick Quotes Quill before. They don't have them in New York."_

" _Well go ahead." Rita said, smiling, handing her the quill._

_Tess pretended to inspect it, stroking it and laughing a little as it tickled her cheek. "That's a great color you have on there." She said. "I take it green is your favorite color?"_

" _Why yes it is, thank you!" Rita said flattered. "Although I wouldn't say no to those handsome green eyes in the Boy Who Lived, would you?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly, while Tess reached for her wand._

" _Say Rita." said Tess. "Is this quill connected to the notepad per chance?"_

_Rita simply shrugged. "Whatever happens to the Quill happens to the notes it takes."_

" _Good."_

_Before Rita Skeeter could say a word, Tess muttered a spell and instantly both the Quill and the notepad caught fire and burnt into ashes._

" _My notes!" Rita squeaked, rushing to gather the ashes._

" _Listen here Skeeter." Tess said. "I don't like reporters in general. But what I don't like about reporters is people like you who always lie, spread rumors and with your pen, ruin private lives. So you're gonna leave me and all of the champions alone or else I will go all Vesper Lynd on you. Oh and I have razor blades hidden in my hair. See?" She waved her hands all over her head. "Have a nice day." She finished with a smile._

_End of flashback….._

Harry gaped at Tess who seemed to show no regret.

"You sure that's not gonna come back to bite you in the ass?" He asked.

"Eh, I'll live with it." said Tess.

"Tess." said Harry.

"Hm?" She grunted.

He looked at the blonde blankly. "You're mad."

Tess only smiled and said, "Thank you."


	27. Chapter 27

Dusk filled the sky like water filling a cup that day, and sooner rather than later, Tess found herself sitting in one of the courtyards. She felt Crucible nip at her ear, and she picked up the letter, attached to the raven owl's feet.

Tess -

I can't say everything because I don't have much time, but I hope the date matches the time you receive this letter - we need to talk face-to-face. Meet me one o clock in your dormitory and make sure you're alone.

I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, you seem to not be taking being a champion to well. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose. You need someone to talk to, someone you can trust.

Be on the watch, Tess. I still want to hear about anything unusual.

And more importantly, watch out for Harry, you're both going to need each other backs.

Dad

She stayed awake that night, not telling Harry about this meeting. She couldn't risk too many people finding out and she had to heed her father's instructions.

Two o clock ticked and tocked on the clock as Tess crept down in her pajamas into the common room. She sat on a plush red chair, tapping her fingers impatiently on the armrest. Where was her father? Was he actually in the castle walls? She hoped that she got a chance to at least hug him.

Then suddenly, a gasp was heard from the fireplace and Tess rushed over, fanned the tiny flames and out came Sirius Black's head.

"Hi Pops." Tess whispered.

"Before we talk, I'm going to get to another thing first." said Sirius. "Did you or did you not put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"

"No." said Tess irritated.

"I had to ask." said Sirius. "Now tell me, why are you so afraid?"

"I'm not." said Tess. "I'm nervous, but I'm not scared."

"Quintessa." Sirius said seriously. "I know what it's like, to put on a different face, but at some point, the walls have to come down."

"Maybe." Tess' said softly. "Maybe I am afraid, afraid of being weak, of being helpless, of disappointing Mom, and of not living to do my best."

"And that is what you do every day." said Sirius. "Your best, but why bottle up that fear? Why lock it away?"

Tess scoffed. "Because I'm a New Yorker. Fear's my drive."

"It's ok to be scared." said Sirius like a father tucking his daughter in bed. "I'm scared every day, not because I'm a fugitive, but because I'm scared something will happen to you or Harry. Every day, everyone is scared, but you have to keep a center."

Tess sighed. "I guess."

"Now, I have to give you a warning about this." said Sirius. "Whoever put your name into that Goblet is certainly plotting to get rid of you, Hogwarts is not safe anymore."

"What are you saying?" Tess asked.

"I'm saying that you should be scared." said Sirius. "Now more than ever. The devils are inside the walls, Quintessa. Igor Karkaroff, he was a Death Eater. And **no one** stops being a Death Eater. Then there's Barty Crouch, heart of stone, sent his own son to Azkaban!"

Tess turned her head around to check if anyone was listening, and went back to facing the flame version of her father's face.

"Do you have any idea who put my name in that Goblet?" Tess asked.

"I haven't the faintest clue of who put your name into the Goblet, but whoever did is not a friend to you." said Sirius. "People **die** in this tournament."

"I'm not ready for this Dad." Tess said, sounding scared.

"You don't have a choice." said Sirius, then a noise sounded in the flames. "I have to go, I love you." And with that, he disappeared, leaving Tess in the common room, alone.


	28. Chapter 28

A few days had passed since Tess got her talk with Sirius and Aunt Sara had come to Hogsmeade to see her niece compete in the First Task. Of course, when she heard about it, she was hysterical with fury. She had pegged Ludo Bagman and Crouch constantly about changing it back but no luck prevailed. And now at half past eleven, Harry, who had pretended to go up to bed early, pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over himself and crept back downstairs through the common room. Quite a few people were still in there. The Creevey brothers had managed to get hold of a stack of Support Cedric Diggory! badges and were trying to bewitch them to make them say Support Harry Potter and Tess Crosswell! instead. So far, however, all they had managed to do was get the badges stuck on POTTER AND CROSSWELL STINK. Harry crept past them to the portrait hole and waited for a minute or so, keeping an eye on his watch. Then Tess opened the Fat Lady for him from outside as they had planned. He slipped past her and put the cloak on her, with a whispered "Thanks!" and set off through the castle.

"You've got the map?" Harry whispered to her.

"Yep." She said, pulling out a very large piece of parchment. She tapped her wand and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Inscriptions poured onto the page like insects getting to work, onto the Marauder's Map. Last year, when Tess and Harry found out the truth about Sirius Black, they split the belongings of the original Marauders. Harry got the Invisibility Cloak and Tess got the Marauder's Map. Tonight, Sara had talked to them and they agreed to meet with Sara and Hagrid, so she could give them a heads up of the first task. They all agreed to meet near Hagrid's cabin with Hagrid himself

"She's there." Tess whispered, pointing to the bubble that was near Hagrid's cabin that said, 'Sara Crosswell.' "Mischief Managed." And instantly, the map's contents faded back to nothing.

The grounds were very dark. Harry walked down the lawn toward the lights shining in Hagrid's cabin. The inside of the enormous Beauxbatons carriage was also lit up; They could hear Madame Maxime talking inside it as they knocked on Hagrid's front door.

"You there, Harry?" Hagrid whispered, opening the door and looking around.

"Yeah," said Harry, slipping inside the cabin and pulling the cloak down off his head. "What's up?"

"Where did you get this?" Sara asked, lifting the cloak.

"Call it inheritence." said Tess, her amethyst eyes glistening with mischief.

"Got summat ter show yeh both" said Hagrid.

There was an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole. It looked as though he had abandoned the use of axle grease, but he had certainly attempted to comb his hair - and it looked like Sara had helped, because Tess had a feeling there might have been broken teeth of the comb once lying there.

"What're you showing me?" Harry said warily, wondering if the skrewts had laid eggs, or Hagrid had managed to buy another giant three-headed dog off a stranger in a pub.

"The stuff for you know what." said Sara, tapping Harry's head. "Remember?"

"Come with us, keep quiet, an' keep yerselves covered with that cloak," said Hagrid. "We won' take Fang, he won' like it..."

"Listen, Hagrid, I can't stay long...I've got to be back up at the castle by one o'clock -"

"Relax Harry." said Sara. "We'll be in and out."

"Aren't you worried about breaking the rules?" Harry asked the blonde woman. "Showing a champion what's supposed to be a surprise?"

"I'm an American." said Sara. "Breaking rules is what we do best."

Hagrid was opening the cabin door and striding off into the night. Harry hurried to follow and found, to his great surprise, that Hagrid was leading him to the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Hagrid, what -?"

"Shhh!" said Hagrid, and he knocked three times on the door bearing the crossed golden wands.

Madame Maxime opened it. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid.

"Ah, 'Agrid...it is time?"

"Bong-sewer," said Hagrid, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps.

"Ah, Miss Crosswell!" said Madame Maxine. "Bonsoir madmoiselle."

"Bonsoir Madame Maxine." said Sara. "Shall we go?"

Madame Maxime closed the door behind her, Hagrid offered her his arm, and they set off around the edge of the paddock containing Madame Maxime's giant winged horses, with Harry and Tess, totally bewildered, running to keep up with them. Had Hagrid wanted to show them Madame Maxime? He could see her any old time he wanted...she wasn't exactly hard to miss...

But it seemed that Madame Maxime was in for the same treat as Harry, because after a while she said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?"

"Yes where **are** you taking us?" Sara asked.

"Yeh'll both enjoy this," said Hagrid gruffly, "worth seein', trust me. On'y - don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know. Sara 'ere, talked meh inteh it. She does a lo' o' talking yeh know."

"Of course." said Madame Maxime, fluttering her long black eyelashes.

And still they walked, Harry getting more and more irritated as he jogged along in their wake, checking his watch every now and then. Hagrid had some harebrained scheme in hand, which might make him miss Sirius. If they didn't get there soon, he was going to turn around with Tess, go straight back to the castle, and leave Hagrid to enjoy his moonlit stroll with Madame Maxime and Sara...

But then - when they had walked so far around the perimeter of the forest that the castle and the lake were out of sight - they heard something. Men were shouting up ahead...then came a deafening, earsplitting roar...

Hagrid led Madame Maxime and Sara around a clump of trees and came to a halt. Harry hurried up alongside them - for a split second, Harry thought he was seeing bonfires, and men darting around them - and then their mouths fell open.

Dragons.

Five fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting - torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-hike than the others, which was nearest to them. In the last cage, was a light brown dragon with red spikes and wings. The dragon almost looked almost like a bull, mean looking, strong, ready to tear apart living flesh and was constantly spitting fire.

"Dragons?" Harry whispered. "That's the first task? They're joking."

"Fraid not." Tess whispered back.

At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerized, Harry looked up, high above him, and saw the eyes of the black dragon, with vertical pupils like a cat's, bulging with either fear or rage, he couldn't tell which...It was making a horrible noise, a yowling, screeching scream...

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

"Is'n' it beautiful?" said Hagrid softly.

"It's no good!" yelled another wizard. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!"

The two fourth years saw each of the dragon keepers pull out his wand.

"Stupefy!" they shouted in unison, and the Stunning Spells shot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly hides -

They watched the dragon nearest to them teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking - then, very slowly, it fell. Several tons of sinewy, scaly-black dragon hit the ground with a thud that Tess could have sworn made the trees behind him quake.

The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands.

"Cuidado!" A Spanish accented voice rang in the air as a pool of fire landed near Tess and Harry. It was good thing they moved out of the way and avoided anything getting burned.

About 10 wizards ran over to the still rogue dragon, all yelling warnings in Spanish that neither Harry or Tess could understand. They all fired Stunning Spells at the rogue dragon and it succumbed finally.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Sara and Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and Harry and Tess followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and Harry realized who it was: Charlie Weasley.

"All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk.

"How are they holding up?" Sara asked. "They don't look too happy."

"Not to worry Miss Crosswell." said Charlie. "They should be okay now - we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet - but, like you said, they weren't happy, not happy at all -"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" said Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something chose to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. Harry could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one - a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray - and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

"And what was ze vun zat was spitting fiar?" Maxine asked.

"Funny you should ask that Seniorita." A Spanish wizard came running over. "Senior Weasley, we've just finished making sure the chains are unbreakable."

"Gracias." said Charlie. "This is Jose Garcia, works with dragons in Spain. Jose, tell our guests what that breed is."

"That breed over there?" Jose pointed to the resting bull/dragon. "That one **loves** to live up to his name; El Fierabras Español."

"The Spanish Spitfire." Sara translated.

"Ah Senorita!" Jose said charmed by Sara. "Tu hablas español?"

"Si." said Sara.

"And Jose." said Charlie. "Let's not converse and distract our guests. No me Gusta."

"Adios!" Jose shouted, running over to some other wizards.

Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning at Maxime. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming - she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"

"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Hagrid," said Charlie, shaking his head. "With Sara too? Her niece is in the tournament."

"She made me." Hagrid said, grimacing in remembrance of their conversation.

"Now that I understand." said Charlie.

"Five..." said Hagrid, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do - fight 'em?"

"Just get past them, I think," said Charlie. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why...but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look."

Charlie pointed toward the Horntail's tail, and Harry saw long, bronze-colored spikes protruding along it every few inches.

Five of Charlie's fellow keepers staggered up to the Horntail at that moment, carrying a clutch of huge granite-gray eggs between them in a blanket. They placed them carefully at the Horntail's side. Hagrid let out a moan of longing.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," said Charlie sternly. Then he said, "How's Tess and Harry?"

"Fine," said Hagrid. He was still gazing at the eggs.

"Just hope he's still fine after he's faced this lot," said Charlie grimly, looking out over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't dare tell Mum what he's got to do for the first task; she's already having kittens about him..." Charlie imitated his mother's anxious voice. "'How could they let him enter that tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!'

"I have a question." said Sara. "How volatile are these dragons?"

"Well Sara." said Charlie. "Dragons, like all magical creatures, follow the same rule when it comes to interacting with human beings; you don't bug them, they don't bug you, usually. There will be powerful enchantments to keep any of the audience experiencing collateral damage."

"Oh come off it Sara." said Hagrid. "They're just seriously misunderstood creatures."

"So it depends on what each champion actually does?" Sara asked.

"Even so." said Charlie walking with them to the Spanish dragon, Harry and Tess following. "I pity the champion who makes the mistake of wearing red on that day."

"Why?" Sara asked.

"Sara yeh have to be careful of what yeh wear around this one." said Hagrid. "The dragon hates that color."

"Why would they hate the color red?" Sara asked, voicing Harry's thoughts.

"Have you ever heard of or seen those Muggle rodeos in Spain?" Charlie asked. "You know how the bull charges at the matador waving the red cape, when they get angry at the sight of it?"

"I thought that was a myth." said Sara.

"No, no, no." said Charlie. "The myth is that the bulls are angry at the sight of the color red, when they actually are provoked by the cape's movements. It can be any color, it's just the cape itself. This breed of dragons though, when they see red and are uncaged, (Charlie winced, already pitying the possible dead champion.) bad for business."


	29. Chapter 29

Harry had had enough. Trusting to the fact that Hagrid wouldn't miss him, with the attractions of five dragons, and Sara with Madame Maxime to occupy him, he turned silently with Tess and began to walk away, back to the castle.

He didn't know whether he was glad he'd seen what was coming or not. Perhaps this way was better. The first shock was over now. Maybe if he'd seen the dragons for the first time on Tuesday, he would have passed out cold in front of the whole school...but maybe he would anyway...He was going to be armed with his wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood - against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon. And he had to get past it. With everyone watching. How?

Tess, for the first time in her life, was feeling scared. She was going to have to face giant scaly beasts that breathed fire and one of them hated the color red to the T. What was she going to do? She had faced a Basilisk, poverty, and a giant chessboard. But a dragon? She had never seen one nor fought one. _It's official._ Tess thought to herself. _I'm a dead witch._

Harry sped up, skirting the edge of the forest; he had just under fifteen minutes to get back to the fireside and talk to Sirius, and he couldn't remember, ever, wanting to talk to someone more than he did right now - when, without warning, he and Tess ran into something very solid.

Harry fell backward, his glasses askew, clutching the cloak around him. A voice nearby said, "Ouch! Who's there?"

Harry hastily checked that the cloak was covering him and hay very still, staring up at the dark outline of the wizard he had hit. He recognized the goatee...it was Karkaroff.

"Who's there?" said Karkaroff again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. Harry remained still and silent with Tess covering his mouth and Harry covering hers. After a minute or so, Karkaroff seemed to decide that he had hit some sort of animal; he was looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then he crept back under the cover of the trees and started to edge forward toward the place where the dragons were.

Very slowly and very carefully, Harry and Tess got to their feet and set off again as fast as they could without making too much noise, hurrying through the darkness back toward Hogwarts.

Harry had no doubt whatsoever what Karkaroff was up to. He had sneaked off his ship to try and find out what the first task was going to be. He might even have spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime heading off around the forest together - they were hardly difficult to spot at a distance...and now all Karkaroff had to do was follow the sound of voices, and he, like Madame Maxime, would know what was in store for the champions.

By the looks of it, the only champion who would be facing the unknown on Tuesday was Cedric.

Harry and Tess reached the castle, slipped in through the front doors, and began to climb the marble stairs; he was very out of breath, but he didn't dare slow down...He had less than five minutes to get up to the fire...

"Balderdash!" he gasped at the Fat Lady, who was snoozing in her frame in front of the portrait hole.

"If you say so," she muttered sleepily, without opening her eyes, and the picture swung forward to admit him. Harry and Tess climbed inside. The common room was deserted, and, judging by the fact that it smelled quite normal, Tess had not needed to set off any Dungbombs to ensure that he and Sirius got privacy.

Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and threw himself into an armchair in front of the fire. He and Tess wished each other goodbye and Tess went to bed. The room was in semidarkness; the flames were the only source of light. Nearby, on a table, the Support Cedric Diggory! badges the Creeveys had been trying to improve were glinting in the firelight. They now read POTTER AND CROSSWELL REALLY STINK. Harry looked back into the flames, and jumped.

Sirius's head was sitting in the fire. If Harry hadn't seen Mr. Diggory do exactly this back in the Weasleys' kitchen, it would have scared him out of his wits. Instead, his face breaking into the first smile he had worn for days, he scrambled out of his chair, crouched down by the hearth, and said, "Sirius - how're you doing?"

Sirius looked different from Harry's memory of him. When they had said good-bye, Sirius's face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a quantity of long, black, matted hair - but the hair was short and clean now, Sirius's face was fuller, and he looked younger, much more like the only photograph Harry had of him, which had been taken at the Potters' wedding.

"Never mind me, how are you?" said Sirius seriously.

"I'm -" For a second, Harry tried to say "fine" - but he couldn't do it. Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he'd talked in days - about how no one believed he and Tess hadn't entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, he didn't show Tess and made sure she stayed away from the paper just to avoid any…problems, how he or Tess couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at - and about Ron and Hermione, Ron not believing him, Ron's jealousy...

"...and now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," he finished desperately. "And I think I saw Tess scared for the first time in my life."

Sirius looked at him, eyes full of concern, eyes that had not yet lost the look that Azkaban had given them - that deadened, haunted look He had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption, but now he said, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute - I haven't got long here...I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"What?" said Harry, feeling his spirits slip a further few notches...Surely there could be nothing worse than dragons coming?

"Karkaroff," said Sirius. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"Yes - he - what?"

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year - to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly - his brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Sirius bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names...he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place...He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

"Okay," said Harry slowly. "But...are you saying Karkaroff put our names in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me and Tess from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry -"

"- you and the rest of the world," said Harry bitterly.

"- and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so, somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So...what are you saying?" said Harry slowly. "Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But - why?"

Sirius hesitated.

"I've been nearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark...and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" said Harry.

"Exactly...she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but...it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Harry.

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said Sirius grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad, Morgan, and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Harry. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So...so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" said Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know...Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your names in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I'm standing," said Harry grinning bleaky. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"Right - these dragons," said Sirius, speaking very quickly now. "There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell - dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon -"

"Yeah, I know, I just saw," said Harry.

"But you can do it alone," said Sirius. "There is away, and a simple spell's all you need. Just -"

But Harry held up a hand to silence him, his heart suddenly pounding as though it would burst. He could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind him.

"Go!" he hissed at Sirius. " Go! There's someone coming!"

Harry scrambled to his feet, hiding the fire - if someone saw Sirius's face within the walls of Hogwarts, they would raise an almighty uproar - the Ministry would get dragged in - he, Harry, would be questioned about Sirius's whereabouts -

Harry heard a tiny pop! in the fire behind him and knew Sirius had gone. He watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. Who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and stopped Sirius from telling him how to get past a dragon?

It was Ron. Dressed in his maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Harry across the room, and looked around.

"Who were you talking to?" he said.

"What's that got to do with you?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I just wondered where you -" Ron broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted. He knew that Ron had no idea what he'd walked in on, knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but he didn't care - at this moment he hated everything about Ron, right down to the several inches of bare ankle showing beneath his pajama trousers.

"Sorry about that," said Ron, his face reddening with anger. "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace."

Harry seized one of the POTTER AND CROSSWELL REALLY STINK badges off the table and chucked it, as hard as he could, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced off.

"There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky...That's what you want, isn't it?"

He strode across the room toward the stairs; he half expected Ron to stop him, he would even have liked Ron to throw a punch at him, but Ron just stood there in his too-small pajamas, and Harry, having stormed upstairs, lay awake in bed fuming for a long time afterward and didn't hear him come up to bed.


	30. Chapter 30

Harry got up on Sunday morning and dressed so inattentively that it was a while before he realized he was trying to pull his shirt onto his foot instead of his sock. When he'd finally got all his clothes on the right parts of his body, he hurried off to find Hermione, locating her at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, where she was eating breakfast with Ginny. Feeling too queasy to eat, Harry waited until Tess had swallowed her last spoonful of cornflakes, then dragged her out onto the grounds. There, they told each other about everything Sirius had said, while they took another long walk around the lake.

Alarmed as she was by Sirius's warnings about Karkaroff, Tess still thought that the dragons were the more pressing problem.

"Let's just try and keep both of us alive until Tuesday evening," she said desperately, "and then we can worry about Karkaroff."

They walked three times around the lake, trying all the way to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to them, so they retired to the library instead. Here, Harry pulled down every book he could find on dragons, and both of them set to work searching through the large pile.

"Talon-clipping by charms...treating scale-rot...' This ain't no good, this is for whackjobs like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy..."

"Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate...' But Sirius said a simple one would do it..."

"Let's try some simple spellbooks, then," said Tess, throwing aside Men Who Love Dragons Too Much.

Harry returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down, and began to flick through each in turn, flopping from one book to the next.

Tess' brain filled with a sort of blank buzzing, which didn't seem to allow room for concentration. She stared hopelessly down the index of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed. Instant scalping...but dragons had no hair...pepper breath...that would probably increase a dragon's firepower...horn tongue...just what he needed, to give it an extra weapon...Maybe...she could bring her butterfly she got as a prize from gambling in Queens, not kill it of course, but maybe, maim it a little so it would be weakened? No, only wands were allowed. She heard a familiar Bulgarian grunt and paled.

"Oh no, he's back again, why can't he read on his stupid ship?" said Tess irritably as Viktor Krum slouched in, cast a surly look over at the pair of them, and settled himself in a distant corner with a pile of books. "Come on, Harry, let's scram back to the common room...his fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away..."

And sure enough, as they left the library, a gang of girls tiptoed past them, one of them wearing a Bulgaria scarf tied around her waist.

Harry barely slept that night. When he awoke on Monday morning, he seriously considered for the first time ever just running away from Hogwarts. But as he looked around the Great Hall at breakfast time, and thought about what leaving the castle would mean, he knew he couldn't do it. It was the only place he had ever been happy...well, he supposed he must have been happy with his parents too, but he couldn't remember that.

Somehow, the knowledge that he would rather be here and facing a dragon than back on Privet Drive with Dudley was good to know; it made him feel slightly calmer. He finished his bacon with difficulty (his throat wasn't working too well), and as he and Tess got up, he saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric still didn't know about the dragons...the only champion who didn't, if Harry was right in thinking that Maxime and Karkaroff would have told Fleur and Krum...

"Tess, I'll see you in the greenhouses," Harry said, coming to his decision as he watched Cedric leaving the Hall. "Go on, I'll catch you up."

"Dude, you're gonna be late, the bell's about to ring -"

"I'll catch you up, okay?"

By the time Harry reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. Harry didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's article at him every time he went near them. He followed Cedric at a distance and saw that he was heading toward the Charms corridor. This gave Harry an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, he pulled out his wand, and took careful aim.

"Diffindo!"

Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.

"Don't bother," said Cedric in an exasperated voice as his friends bent down to help him. "Tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on..."

This was exactly what Harry had been hoping for. He slipped his wand back into his robes, waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but himself and Cedric.

"Hi," said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. "My bag just split...brand-new and all..."

"I'm sorry Cedric." said Harry, taking a page from Tess' book and sounding convincingly concerned. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No." said Cedric. "But thank you though."

"Cedric," said Harry, "I have to warn you, the first task is dragons."

"What?" said Cedric, looking up.

"Dragons," said Harry, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. "They've got five, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."

Cedric stared at him. Harry saw some of the panic he'd been feeling since Saturday night flickering in Cedric's gray eyes.

"Are you sure?" Cedric said in a hushed voice.

"Dead sure," said Harry. "I've seen them and Tess was with me."

"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know..."

"Never mind," said Harry quickly - he knew Hagrid would be in trouble if he told the truth. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now - Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons too."

Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment, and books, his ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at Harry, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.

"Why are you telling me?" he asked.

Harry looked at him in disbelief. He was sure Cedric wouldn't have asked that if he had seen the dragons himself. Harry wouldn't have let his worst enemy face those monsters unprepared - well, perhaps Malfoy or Snape...

"It's just...fair, isn't it?" he said to Cedric. "We all know now...we're on an even footing, aren't we?"

Cedric was still looking at him in a slightly suspicious way when Harry heard a familiar clunking noise behind him. He turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom.

"Come with me, Potter," he growled. "Diggory, off you go."

And with that, Harry went with Moody, unaware that the conversation that he was going to have with him was somewhat paralleled with Tess' with Dumbledore


	31. Chapter 31

Tess had arrived in the greenhouse, with once again, half of the class sneering at her. She kept her head down and had bumped into Hermione accidentally. Tess gave her a hard dirty look while Hermione's gaze softened. Tess set out her things while Hermione tapped her on the shoulder.

"Tess." She said nicely. "How are you?"

"Fine." Tess said sardonically.

"Listen-"

Hermione was cut off by Professor Sprout announcing,

"Before we begin the lesson, Miss Crosswell, could you step out? Professor Dumbledore would like to see you."

Without another minute, Tess grabbed her stuff and went outside through the empty corridors to the office of one Professor Dumbledore.

"You wanted to see me?" Tess asked.

"Quintessa." said Dumbledore. "Have a seat." Tess did so, dreading that she was in trouble. "You are aware that your first task is tomorrow? And what it is?"

"Yes." She said.

"Now I know our lessons are on Thursdays." said Dumbledore. "But I want to give you a little inspiration, so I moved it to today."

"Oh." said Tess, in a realizing tone. "I see, just in case I die." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but he didn't seem too amused. "I'm gonna shut up now."

"It's ok." said Dumbledore. "Come with me." He led her upstairs to the room with the windows, and with the large butterfly in the middle. "I understand that this month may have been hard on you, but you cannot lose hope and I know that somewhere inside you, is that motivation. That's what this lesson is all about. I think you're ready to take the next step."

"Transforming my hand?" Tess asked hopefully.

"Finding your animal." said Dumbledore. Tess just groaned while lying down. "You've cleared your mind, now you need to dive into it."

"How can I dive into my mind when it's clear as the sky?" Tess asked.

"Because in order to find your animal." said Dumbledore, walking downstairs. "You must find yourself."

As Tess cleared her mind, the butterfly started to glow in so many colors, colors that could have never been imagined before before the entire butterfly glowed purple.

Tess then woke up but not in the same place she was in before. She woke up in a white pristine room covered in white light. There was no symbol on the impossibly clean floor. The ceiling above was clear with a mystical mist on it surrounding a large diamond chandelier, which was where the white light was coming from.

"Ok." said Tess. "Where am I?"

 _Ok, not the best line for originality-whoa_ A voice echoed out. _What's that voice?_

"Who are you?" Tess called out. "Where am I?" No response, just the stillness and silence of the mysterious white room. "Hello? Hellooooooo? HEY!"

Still nothing. Yet Tess couldn't help but feel that there was something familiar about that voice. But who could it belong to? It wasn't Harry's nor anyone else she knew.

 _Well that's convenient._ The voice echoed again. _I'm stuck in a place and I have no idea what the hell this place is. Wait a minute._

"That's.." Tess whispered in shock. "My voice. That's what I was thinking."

Deciding to put this room to the test, she thought about cookie dough ice cream.

 _Hmm. I could really use some. Can this room read my mind and voice it out? Echo or not, I'm getting some answers._ She looked around to see a circle of multicolored doors and a large mirror. _Let's see._ Her thoughts echoed as Tess walked to a red door. _What could be behind door number uno?_

Tess tried to turn the knob but she couldn't because it was locked, although there was no lock hole and there certainly was no key anywhere in sight.

She searched her pockets only to find no wand, whatsoever.

"Great." said Tess. "Now what?" She leaned against the door and she literally fell through into another strange room. Only, it wasn't a room at all

When she landed, she was confused to find herself in a desert. The hottest desert she had ever felt and she had never been to one before. But that was not the strangest thing. Everything around her was red; the sand, the sky, the clouds, the sun. Even the small wind breezes had a tint of scarlett.

And yet Tess couldn't help but think, "Why do I feel so angry?"

 _You are worthless Yank trash!_ Pansy Parkinson's voice rang in the desert. Tess ran to the sound of the voice and found a scene in the desert playing out the scene where she was humiliated in public by some of the girls, her body floating and all, and there was pretty much nothing she could do.

Anger started to boil in her and she ran from that to hear her own voice, but younger shout, _Why can't you trust the person who has been there for you for the past 3 years?!_

That also brought back memories of the fight between her and Hermione that left a wound on her heart. At that moment, Tess decided enough was enough and ran out through the red door and back into the white room, feeling less angry and less angry as she got closer to the

"Ok." She said, panting heavily. "Definitely a room I must avoids." She walked to the next door, which was blue and once again, walked through it.

When she went through, she was immediately soaked by the heavy pouring rain, she was in a field with a few trees and slightly dark clouds overhead pouring, and each tear dropped on her, brought a fresh wave of emotional sadness.

"Oh damn it." said Tess. "Of all days not to carry an umbrella. But if that's the case, why do I feel sad?"

She heard distinct sobbing, coming from a little girl. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a group of people bunched together, all carrying umbrellas and leaning over what looked like a tombstone, and in front of the tombstone was a large wooden coffin. Standing in front of the coffin, were three people. The blonde woman was wearing a black dress and holding an umbrella, the small boy next to her was wearing a suit and the crying girl wearing a black pantsuit.

"I miss mommy." The small girl sobbed. "It's just not fair."

Tess stood there, remembering that funeral all too well. She shook her head and turned back, walking through the blue door, wiping her tears away as she returned to the white room.

 _Wait._ Her thoughts echoed in the room. _Anger, sadness, let's see what door number 3 brings me._

She walked to the yellow door and went through it, to be greeted by warm sunlight. She was in a meadow, surrounded by violet flowers, under a bright optimistic sky and although nothing had happened, she was feeling undeniable amounts of joy. She heard some noise and saw to her right in a park near Chicago. She saw two little girls, one Japanese and one blonde.

" _Hi I'm Tess."_

" _Hi I'm Shinigami." The Asian girl shook her hand. "I like your hair."_

_Tess made a strike but Shinigami ducked and Tess started chasing her, the both of them laughing._

Tess wanted to stay there, but she turned around and left, her happiness fading as she left.

She pointed to the three doors she went to. _Happy._ Her voice echoed as she pointed to the yellow door. _Sad._ She pointed to the blue. _Anger._ She pointed to the red.

"Different sides of my own personality." She said out loud. "That's why my own thoughts are being heard, literally."

_I'm in my own head._

Tess walked by two more doors, the next one being green for brave and the pink for love. Right next to it was a large floating mirror. Tess walked up to it, but it didn't show her reflection. Annoyed, she tapped it a bunch of times.

"Hey!" She yelled to no one. "Is this thing on? I'm waiting!"

Instantly, an animal that looked like a dog but it was too big to be one, jumped in the reflection and growled at her, causing her to fall back and wake up gasping for breath back in Dumbledore's office, the butterfly below her fading to a simple carving.

"Oh at last." Dumbledore said. "You're awake."

"Oh you bet I am!" said Tess. "I was somewhere else, in this room, with all of these doors to my emotions and there was this mirror and it showed my animal. I didn't get a good look at it but it was like a dog or something."

Dumbledore looked at her in a look that had Tess think was a mix between befuddled and shocked.

"Why are you looking at me like I just died?" Tess asked.

"I nearly had to take you to the Hospital Wing." said Dumbledore. "But your body was stuck to the symbol. You were out for quite a while."

"How long is a while?" Tess asked.

"3 and a half hours." He answered.

Now it was Tess' turn to actually be befuddled. "I've been inside my own head for 3 and a half hours?! How is that possible? I spent 2 minutes in those doors!"

"The mind can be a vast unknown reality." said Dumbledore leading her down. "That's why I believed you were ready for this, a lesson I wanted to teach you before your task tomorrow. The mind is based on 3 fundamentals; what a person learns, what a person thinks, and what that person can create with their imaginations. I believe a Muggleborn wizard by the name of Albert Einstein once said, "Imagination is more important than knowledge."

"What does that have to do with me and facing a dragon?" Tess asked.

"I may not be able to aid you in this task." said Dumbledore. "But I can give you something to think about. Cedric Diggory, will use spells that you nor Mr. Potter haven't used yet. Miss Delacour may be a lovely lady, but she's got a fire inside. Mr. Krum, he will use his Quidditch skills, his excellent hand eye coordination and brute strength to get past his dragon. Mr Potter will use his brilliant tactics to get past the dragon. What will you use?"

"Whatever I got." said Tess bluntly.

"Quintessa let me ask you a question that may leave you pondering on for a while." said Dumbledore. "When facing a giant beast of a deadly dragon, what would Tess Crosswell do?"


	32. Chapter 32

"Tess, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

And so they practiced. They didn't have lunch, but headed for a free classroom, where Harry tried with all his might to make various objects fly across the room toward him. He was still having problems. The books and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropping hike stones to the floor.

"Come on, sloppy freak, concentrate..."

"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" said Harry angrily. "A great big dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason...Okay, try again..."

"I am pushing you harder than you've ever been pushed before."

He wanted to skip Divination to keep practicing, but Tess refused point-blank to skive off Numerology, and there was no point in staying without her. He therefore had to endure over an hour of Professor Trelawney, who spent half the lesson telling everyone that the position of Mars with relation to Saturn at that moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden, violent deaths.

"Well, that's good," said Harry loudly, his temper getting the better of him, "just as long as it's not drawn-out. I don't want to suffer."

Ron looked for a moment as though he was going to laugh; he certainly caught Harry's eye for the first time in days, but Harry was still feeling too resentful toward Ron to care. He spent the rest of the lesson trying to attract small objects toward him under the table with his wand. He managed to make a fly zoom straight into his hand, though he wasn't entirely sure that was his prowess at Summoning Charms - perhaps the fly was just stupid.

"You think this is hard?" Tess asked when teaching him the charm. "Try drinking chocolate ice cream mixed with ketchup! That's hard!"

He forced down some dinner after Divination, then returned to the empty classroom with Hermione, using the Invisibility Cloak to avoid the teachers. They kept practicing until past midnight. They would have stayed longer, but Peeves turned up and, pretending to think that Harry wanted things thrown at him, started chucking chairs across the room. Harry and Tess left in a hurry before the noise attracted Filch, and went back to the Gryffindor common room, which was now mercifully empty.

At two o'clock in the morning, Harry stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects: books, quills, several upturned chairs, an old set of Gobstones, and Neville's toad, Trevor. Only in the last hour had Harry really got the hang of the Summoning Charm.

"Alright Potter take five" Tess said, looking exhausted but very pleased. "Then you're gonna give me 70 like that."

"Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell," Harry said, throwing a rune dictionary back to Hermione, so he could try again, "threaten me with a dragon. Right..." He raised his wand once more. "Accio Dictionary!"

The heavy book soared out of Hermione's hand, flew across the room, and Harry caught it. He threw the book back and repeated the process 70 more times.

"Harry, I really think you've got it!" said Tess delightedly.

"Just as long as it works tomorrow," Harry said. "The Firebolt's going to be much farther away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there on the grounds..."

"That doesn't matter," said Tess firmly. "Just follow the basic and most important rule of sports; Don't Die."

Harry had been focusing so hard on learning the Summoning Charm that evening that some of his blind panic had left him. It returned in full measure, however, on the following morning. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at noon, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there. All the champions were required to wear clothes that were selected for their fitting and suited for the challenges. **(A.N, the champion outfits from the movie are portrayed.)** Tess wore a purple tanktop under a black vest coat that had CROSWELL spelled in purple. On her arms were black arm sleeves with her arm bracers, one of which, could conceal her wand. She wore black gym pants with dark purple sneakers. For makeup, she wore silver eyeshadow, some mascara and purple lipstick. Her hair was in a bun with two long pins keeping it together

Despite his champion outfit, Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing "We'll have a box of tissues ready, Potter" as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn't just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight. Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment he seemed to be sitting down in his first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch...and then (where had the morning gone? the last of the dragon-free hours?), Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to him in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.

"Potter and Crosswell, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now...You both have to get ready for your first task."

"Okay," said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

"Remember" Tess whispered. "Just don't die and you'll be fine."

"Yeah," said Harry in a voice that was most unlike his own.

He heft the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn't seem herself either; in fact, she looked nearly anxious. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on their shoulders.

"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head...We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand...The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you two...Are you two all right?"

"Yes," Harry heard himself say. "Yes, I'm fine."

She was leading them toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, Harry saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.

"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turns. Mr. Bagman is in there...he'll be telling you the - the procedure... Good luck."

"Thanks," said Harry, in a flat, distant voice. She left him at the entrance of the tent. Harry went inside.

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a how wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy, even wearing a blue and silver champion uniform. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it. Harry was already feeling nervous and not because his outfit had red in it, especially his name on his back

"Harry! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too...ah, yes...your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this...

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking...Tess felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species, then started to feel a bit sick and ran outside to some bushes and literally lost her lunch

"Who's there?" A voice asked. Tess walked back to see it was Hermione. "Oh shoving your fingers down your throat like the rest of your American brothers and sisters?"

"I'm not throwing up on purpose." said Tess. "I'm so nervous that I couldn't keep it in. I used to love competition. It was one of the things that motivated me to get better. Now I hate it."

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Hermione asked.

"No." said Tess, crossing her arms. "I think you're kind of mean but I don't think you're stupid."

"No, no." said Hermione. "I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to get me to feel bad for you so you can get some sympathy."

Hermione, did I ever give you a real reason to hate me all of a sudden?" Tess asked, leaving Hermione affected by her words. "I don't know how it happened that night, but it happened. So get past that. If you can't, then get the Hell out of my way."

Tess walked past the brunette and it seemed like forever until Hermione yelled out, "Wait!" Tess turned around to see her looking apologetic. "It's because you're everything I'm not. You're everything I wish I could be and that's why I secretly hated you for all these years, it's why I started that stupid fight. I'm sorry."Tess steel gaze softened at those two words. "But you have to go out there and face that task. You have a gift."

"Hermione, I can't." said Tess. "You saw me out here. I'm gonna barf my guts out in there."

"If you feel like you're gonna throw up, just look at me." said Hermione.

"Why are you helping me?" Tess asked. "Don't you wanna support the real champion?"

Hermione only smiled. "Friends stick together."

Tess then pulled Hermione into a hug. "Apology accepted."

"Miss Crosswell?" Mr. Bagman's voice was heard from behind Tess. "Come."

Tess walked from Hermione who mouthed, "Good luck!"

Tess walked back with Ludo Bagman to the other champions and he opened the purple velvet bag.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny dragon that was moving.

"The Welsh Green." announced Bagman. And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

Tess put her hand into the bag and she pulled out a tiny moving brown and red dragon that was moving in a circle and trying to spit fire but all that came out was it's tongue.

"The Spanish Spitfire." Bagman announced.

"Madre de Dios." Tess muttered quietly.

Fleur's reaction was the same for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout. Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and you will be called out in order. Each of these models represent 5 very real dragons, each of which guards a Golden Egg. Your objective is simple; Collect the egg, this you must do for each egg contains a clue without which you cannot hope to proceed to the next task. Any questions?"

"Very well." said Dumbledore. "Good luck champions. Mr Diggory, at the sound of the cannon-"

BOOM! Filch had already fired the cannon and the tent shook a little. Cedric walked out of it, Tess whispering, "Good Luck." to him. Harry tried to wish him luck as he walked past, but all that came out of his mouth was a sort of hoarse grunt.

Harry went back inside to Fleur and Krum. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Cedric had entered the stadium and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model...

It was worse than Harry could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed...yelled...gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric did whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Cedric's steps, around and around the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse...Horrible pictures formed in Harry's mind as he heard: "Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow"... "He's taking risks, this one!"..."Clever move - pity it didn't work!"

And then, after about fifteen minutes, Harry heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Cedric had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

But he didn't shout out the marks; Harry supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, four to go!" Bagman yelled as the cannon fired again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt more warmly toward her than he had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. He, Tess, and Krum were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again..."Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh...nearly! Careful now...good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more...Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown...more clapping...then, for the third time, the cannon.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" cried Bagman, and Krum slouched out, leaving Harry quite alone.

Tess felt much more aware of her body than usual; very aware of the way her heart was pumping fast, and her fingers tingling with fear...yet at the same time, she seemed to be outside herself, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away.

"Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!"

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished - it would be Harry's turn any moment.

"Harry." Tess said hugging him and he returned it. "Come back in one piece bro."

"Just hope I do sis." Harry muttered.

Just then, the cannon fired again, and the whole tent shook, but not as much as Harry as he stepped out, leaving Tess alone. She sat down, praying that someone she considered her brother wasn't going to try anything unusually stupid. And that was Tess thinking.

"Accio Firebolt!" she heard him shout.

Tess waited, every fiber of her hoping, praying that he had gotten the spell right and that his broom was coming.

And then she heard it, the crowd was making even more noise...Bagman was shouting something...but Tess was screaming in joy as well.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

"Take that Mr. Big Shot." Tess said.

She could hear the roars, the cheers, the winces and the ooohs. _Wish I could see what was going on_. Tess thought.

And then, there was a sea of noise, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup -

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

"Four of our champions have now faced their dragons." Dumbledores' magnified voice sounded. "And so each one of them will proceed to the next task. (Tess stood up and walked while putting on her hood and veil covering her mouth.) And now our fifth and final contestant."

She saw everything in front of her when she entered the stadium as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at her from stands that had been magicked there since she'd last stood on this spot. There was rock all over the stadium, brown rock so the dragon must have hidden. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Tess didn't know or care. It was time to do what she had to do...to focus her mind and body, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was her only chance.

"I'm gonna die now." said Tess. "I'm going to freakin' die now."


	33. Chapter 33

The silence was like the thickest cover of blankets. Even Ludo wasn't commentating, because he was waiting for something. Tess moved hastily but with a steady pace. She stuck out her head, and when she thought there was no dragon, she let out a breath of relief, only to have the Spitfire roar and start lashing out on her with its bulbous tail. Every twist and turn she made in the rocky stadium, the dragon did whatever he could to stop her, even at one time, the tail picking her up and tossing her away like a rag doll.

"Ooh." Bagman winced. "That's not a good start ladies and gentlemen."

"YOUR WAND TESS!" She could hear Johnnie yell. Obviously he had come to see her. "USE YOUR WAND!

"Lumos Maxima!" she shouted. A blinding flash of light escaped her wand, which temporarily blinded the dragon, but gave her enough time to try to escape the dragon. Unfortunately, one of the dragon's legs, with it's sharp claw swept at her and caused her to take a trip tumbling down, feeling pain sprout in her back.

"Oh dear Lord!" Bagman cried. "That's gonna leave a mark!"

"Come on Tess." Sara said in a mouthful of cookies she had brought with her. By then, a third of the large bag.

Luckily she could get up, because this witch was **not** going down without a fight. She continued running in the rocky path ignoring Bagman's commentary.

"What an unknown sight ladies and gentlemen! What does this girl have planned?"

Tess ears perked up at that word. "A plan." She said to herself. "That's something I definitely didn't come with."

Everyone in the stands screamed as the dragon prepared to spit fire at her, but Tess in time, pulled her wand back from her arm bracer pocket and yelled, "INCENDIO!" Her fire coming from her wand, caught the dragon's fire blast and caused an explosion that gave Tess enough time to move under the dragon and hide behind a large rock.

"Using the Fire-Making Spell." said Bagman in his commentary. "I believe we have a clever girl?"

"Ok Tess." She said to herself quietly, so the dragon who was looking for her couldn't find her. "How does one beat a giant 60 ft oversized winged lizard that's fireproof, can breathe fire and is trying to skin my ass? Come on Tess. (She knocked her head with her fist a couple of times) Think, think, think!"

"What could the little lady be doing in there, behind those rocks?" Bagman asked in his commentary.

"Come on Tess." Hermione whispered. "Do something."

"Creating a diversion." Tess answered Bagman silently, raising her wand in the air and said, waving it around, "Fumos Maxima!"

Smoke filled the entire stadium. It was a good thing that the rocky circular stadium had shield enchantments so that no one in the audience could breathe in the smoke. But that didn't mean they could see through it.

"A smokescreen!" Ludo Bagman announced. "Very clever but not quite effective."

Karkaroff merely laughed. "Idiot girl."

Inside the smoke, was Tess who was looking around frantically for the egg. She thought if she blinded the dragon with smoke, the dragon couldn't see her. But unfortunately, that applied to her too. She backed up, slowly, until she heard a spitting noise and backed away, but by a stroke of bad luck, her right arm got a nick of the fire and Tess had to use the Aguamenti charm to put it out. It was a good thing she was left handed because her arm bracer wand case wasn't fireproof.

"Finite Incantatem!" She yelled, clearing the smoke and looked around to see the dragon was not anywhere in sight. It was only by the sound of people screaming that she realized that the dragon was not done with her yet.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" Tess asked sarcastically, turning around and doing a cartwheel to avoid the dragon's fire blast. She then came in front of the dragon and yelled, "Incendio!" again, creating a small explosion, that gave her enough time to notice something; the chain that was holding the Spanish dragon was being tugged by the dragon itself as it searched for Tess who was then making her cover with rocks.

 _The chain?_ Tess thought. _That's it!_ She had an idea. A very stupid, insane and a death wish of an idea. But a plan, nonetheless.

" _What would Tess Crosswell do?_ " Dumbledore's words rang in her head.

"What she does best." Tess said. "Time to piss someone off." She went out of the rocks and waved her hands out in the open. "HEY! Lizard breath! (She cupped her hands to her mouth.) Your mother was a salamander!"

Some people gave roars of laughter while some people like Ron yelled, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" as the dragon spit fire and Tess deflected it.

"Hey Snake Tongue!" Tess yelled, now on the other side of the Stadium. "Did you always have bad aim, or were you born like that?"

The dragon blasted fire again and Tess avoided it with the Aguamenti Charm.

"By Merlin!" Bagman cried out. "This girl has to be the bravest champion the Triwizard Tournament has ever seen or the most insipid."

"What does that girl think she is doing?" Snape asked incredulously. "Hoping it will fire at her?"

"I believe that is exactly why she's doing it Severus." said Dumbledore.

Tess' taunting was working its charm. The dragon was close to losing it as it fired in every direction Tess was at in its rage.

Behind a rock, Tess took off her vest jacket, pulled out her wand, remembering the thing that this breed of dragon hated most.

" _Colorvaria_." She said pointing to the jacket. Red light shot out of her wand and spread like a flood onto her jacket, turning it red.

"Oi!" Tess yelled out, waving her now red jacket as if it were a cape. "Toro! Toro!" The dragon released a very angry roar, firing at her.

"What tricks could this girl have up her sleeve?" Bagman asked. "For those of you who don't know, The Spanish Spitfire despises the color red."

"What the hell does she think she's doing?" Draco Malfoy yelled. "It's gonna kill her if she insults it that way!"

"Now Tess, don't do anything stupid." Harry prayed. But he was proven wrong when Tess put on the red jacket, earning gasps from the crowd. "Like that." Sara had already killed a half of her bag of Oreos.

"I'm a piece of meat!" Tess yelled in a sing song voice. "I'm a piece of meat! And you're gonna lose!"

"The day has come Fred." said George. "Our dear Yank friend Tess has lost it."

"When has she ever had it?" Fred asked.

The dragon continued to chase her and when she was no less than 5 feet away from the tail, she yelled out, pointing to the wall, "BOMBARDA!" Immediately, the wall exploded, but it wasn't enough damage to bring the stands down, but it was enough to send some dust and rock flying into the dragon's eyes while Tess moved during the rubble falling and climbing on board the dragon's tail and moving onto the back. Her wand was safe and tucked away while the spectators screamed in terror and yelled at Tess to get off. Some were also asking the same question since her taunts at the dragon, "Is she insane?"

Harry waited, every fiber of him hoping, praying...that Tess was going to be ok.

And then everyone saw it, holding on to the horns as the dragon blindly searched for it's opponent, was Tess herself.

"What is she doing?" Cedric asked.

"Great Scott, what a sight!" Bagman announced. "Never before in Triwizard history has anyone attempted to ride a dragon in the task!"

"That's incredibly stupid!" McGonagall yelled. "Or brilliant, or-or both!"

Tess was holding on for dear life as the dragon shot fire in every direction through the air behind her; she turned and saw the wall hurtling toward her as the dragon seemed to be leaning back.

 _Fire whip._ She prayed, gripping her wand with her strength. _I know that you come out in times of peril, because now is a good time!_

Sure enough, the glowing orange whip appeared at the edge of the wand, blazing with it's fiery power, Tess raised it and whipped it on the Dragon's leg, causing it to roar in pain and try to fly but was tethered to the ground. The crowd was making even more noise...Bagman was shouting something...but Tess' ears were not working properly anymore...listening wasn't important...

She swung the whip and struck again, this time, the Spitfire struggled to fly away and failed, despite his best efforts off from the ground.

"What is that dragon doing?" Seamus asked. "It's gonna tire itself out."

At those words, some of the people near him finally realized what exactly Tess' plan was.

"Oh Tess is mad alright." said Ginny. "But she's a mad genius at that."

A second later, something unexpected happened...

As the dragon tried soaring upward, as the wind rushed through her hair, she turned her head around to see the chain root was coming undone slowly. She certainly couldn't have a loose dragon now, so she put away her wand and her fire whip, and reached into her hair bun. She pulled out a very long bobby pin, used her teeth to unscrew the plastic part, and waited until she had a clear shot.

"Hasta la vista Señor Drago." She said and then stabbed the pin in the eye of the dragon. The Spitfire roared in agony, thrashing it's head from side to side until it hit the wall, with Tess saying, "Oh Crap" as the rock wall was hit.

Screaming and groans from the crowd as they heard the loud BOOM and saw the damage done. And yet Tess was nowhere to be found. Almost everyone Tess knew dearly was having kittens, including Draco.

Silence draped over them until Ludo Bagman said in his commentary, "Oh dear..it seems we have a death in the champion family-wait is that who I think it is?"

A figure came out slowly limping but started to run and everyone burst in joyful cheers as Tess ran to the Golden Egg, and caught it, finishing her run with a slide.

It was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - for the first time, she became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup -

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our final champion is the most daring to get her egg anyway she can! Well, this is definitely going to shorten the odds on Miss. Crosswell!"

Tess saw the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid hurrying to meet him, all of them waving him toward them, their smiles evident even from this distance. She ran back over the stands, the noise of the crowd pounding her eardrums, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks...She had got through the first task, she had survived...because it was what Tess does; survives

"That was excellent, Crosswell!" cried Professor McGonagall- which from her was extravagant praise. She noticed that her hand shook as she pointed at her side. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score...Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already...Your parents would be so proud of you."

"Yeh did it, Tess!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Spitfire an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was nast-"

"Thanks, Hagrid," said Tess loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown Harry or Tess the dragons beforehand.

Professor Moody looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket.

"Nice and easy does the trick, Crosswell," he growled.

Silence came like a forest fire when Cedric and Harry came, fresh out of the hospital wing.

"Quintessa." said Cedric sternly. "You are the craziest person I've ever met. And for that, I believe you and Potter. All the champions do now, that neither of you put your names into the Goblet of Fire."

"Let's hear it for Tess!" Dean Thomas yelled. "The bravest of us all!"

"The Queen of the Dragons!" Neville yelled.

Harry hugged her and said, "I'm glad **you** came back in one piece."

And then as she pulled away from the hug, all of the adrenaline wore off and the pain from her injuries started seeping through her like venom. She yelled in pain, collapsing, holding her arm and back.

"Tess!" Harry exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

Tess ripped her arm bracer off of her burnt arm to see a raw red blistering arm. Cedric lifted her tanktop and gasped at the sight of three claw marks, mauling her back.

"She's wounded!" Cedric yelled to the others. "Get help!"

As Tess was being carried to the first aid tent, Harry whispered to her, "Tess, keep holding on. Just hold on."


	34. Chapter 34

"Dragons!" Madam Pomfery said, in a disgusted tone, when she was treating Tess' arm inside the first aid tent, which was divided into cubicles. Madam Pomfrey examined Tess' arm, talking furiously all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky...this is quite shallow...it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though..."

She put orange paste on her burnt arm and she cleaned the cuts on her back with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked her back with her wand, and she felt them heal instantly.

"Now, just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go and get your score."

"How bad were your injuries?" Tess asked Harry.

"Just a banged up shoulder but she fixed it." said Harry. "I also had a cut but it was just a nick."

Tess didn't want to sit still. She was too full of excitement. She got to her feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but she stumbled a little and gripped on the bed, and Harry caught her. Before they reached the mouth of the tent, three people had come darting inside - Sara, then Johnnie followed closely by Hermione.

"Harry, Tess, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You both were amazing! You really were!"

But Sara,who was very white and staring at the fourth year champions as though they were ghosts.

"Oh you two!" She yelled squeezing the life out of them. "I can't believe you two had to face dragons! Of all challenges, dragons!"

"Calm down Mom!" said Johnnie. "You'e already killed a bag with about 45 Oreos. But seriously Tess, what were you thinking, climbing a dragon and attempting to ride it?"

"I wasn't." Tess said.

"45 cookies in one going?" Hermione asked. "You'd give Ron a run for his money."

Harry looked downtrodden at the mention of Ron. "Where is he?"

"He tried to come here." said Hermione. "But the crowd was going to fast, we got split up. Sara and Johnnie got to get here faster because they're family."

"So I assume you two." Harry pointed to Hermione and Tess. "Have already made up?"

"Yep." said Tess, reaching and hugging Hermione with her good arm. "We're now BFF's for life."

"Totes right." said Hermione before realizing what she said. "Tess! What have you done! Corrupting my speech and grammar!"

Everyone just laughed at her. "Yep, you're friends again." said Johnnie.

"Harry!" an excited voice sounded. "Tess!" In burst in the Creevy brothers, one taking pictures and the other unwravelling a piece of parchment that had a lion and several Gryffindor decorations moving in a festive way.

"There's a party in the common room!" Dennis said. "It's a first task party!"

"We'll be there when we can." said Tess.

"A party doesn't sound too bad." said Harry agreeing.

"You better be!" Colin shouted. "You two are the guests of honor! We're throwing it for you two!"

"Life goes on." said Johnnie, shaking his head at the Creevy's antics as they rushed out of the tent. "Tess, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores..."

Picking up the golden egg and enduring the phantom pains of her back, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Johnnie by her side, talking fast.

"You were the best, you know, no competition. Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground...turned it into a dog...he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her jacket caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum - you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye, just like Tess' idea only with magic. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."

"I just flew." said Harry.

"Just flew?" Johnnie asked in mock hurt. "Harry Potter, you summoned your Firebolt and flew around as if it were a Quidditch match! You and Tess must be tied and tied! But Tess, seriously, wearing red in front of the Spanish Spitfire! That's just..beyond crazy!"

"What you call crazy." said Tess. "I call creative. You should try it sometime."

Johnnie drew breath as he, Hermione, Tess, and Harry reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the Spitfire had been taken away, Harry could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten from each one," Harry said, and Harry squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What hooked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure 7.

"Not bad!" said Hermione as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your back..."

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number 10 into the air.

"Looking good!" Harry yelled, forgetting for a second what happened to her back. Tess hissed in pain and Harry rubbed her back. "Sorry Tess."

Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a 10. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman - ten.

"3 Tens?" said Tess in disbelief. "But what did I do?"

"You thought outside of the box!" Johnnie yelled. "That's what you did!"

"Tess, don't complain!" Hermione yelled excitedly.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - three.

"What?" Johnnie bellowed furiously. "Three? You no good, biased douche-bag, you gave Krum ten and Harry four!"

"Who cares!" Hermione shouted. "That's 40 points!"

But Tess didn't care, she wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given her zero; Johnnie's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him. She didn't tell him this, of course, but her heart felt lighter than air as she turned to leave the stadium. And it wasn't just Hermione...those weren't only Gryffindors cheering in the crowd. When it had come to it, when they had seen what she was facing, most of the school had been on her side as well as Harry and Cedric's...She didn't care about the Slytherins, she could stand whatever they threw at her now.

"You're in second place, Tess! You're after Harry and Krum!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they set off back toward the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was impossible but believable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've both got to hang around for a few more minutes...Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

Johnnie and Hermione said they would wait, so Tess and Harry reentered the tent, which somehow looked quite different now: friendly and welcoming. They thought back to how they'd felt while dodging the dragons, and compared it to the long wait before they'd walked out to face it...There was no comparison; the wait had been immeasurably worse.

Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all came in together. One side of Cedric's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending his burn.

"Bien joue." said Fleur to Tess and nodded at Harry.

"Merci." said Tess.

"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open...see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Harry and Tess left the tent, rejoined Hermione, (Johnnie had to go back with Sara and gave them time to themselves) and they started to walk back around the edge of the forest, talking hard; Harry wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as they rounded the clump of trees behind which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid yellow robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, Harry and Tess!" she said, beaming at them. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you both felt facing those dragons? How you both feel now, about the fairness of the scorings?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Good-bye."

And he set off back to the castle with his good friends.


	35. Chapter 35

Sure enough, when they entered the Gryffindor common room it exploded with cheers and yells. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks of red and purple; and Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, though a couple showed Cedric with his head on fire. Some of it, showed Tess riding the dragon and then slaying it which was a bit of an exaggeration of what happened. All the girls now had two sides, Harry or Tess. Some boys even took to being a fan of Tess.

Harry helped himself to food; he had almost forgotten what it was like to feel properly hungry, and sat down with Tess and Hermione. He couldn't believe how happy he felt; his sister had Hermione back on her side, he'd gotten through the first task, and he wouldn't have to face the second one for three months. But he couldnt help but feel something was missing. Maybe it was because Ron was nowhere to be found.

Fred and George then picked Harry up on their shoulders while some seventh years took to raising Tess in a chair.

"We knew you had it in you." said Fred. "Lose a leg."

"Or an arm." said George.

"Pack in it all together?" Tess yelled hearing them.

"Never!" The room boomed.

"Blimey, this is heavy," said Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg, which Tess had left on a table, and weighing it in his hands. "Open it, guys, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"Shut up!" Seamus said kissing the egg as a bit of Irish luck and gave it to Harry. "Go on Harry! What's the clue?"

"He's supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione said swiftly. "It's in the tournament rules..."

"Lighten up Mione!" Tess yelled jokingly.

"Who wants me to open it?" Harry asked to the entire House.

"Yeah!" The room chorused.

"Do you want me to open it?" Harry asked again.

"Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!" several people echoed.

"I can't hear you!" Tess yelled, prompting more cheer. "I still can't hear you-ok that's too much!"

Lee passed Harry the egg, and Harry dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open.

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room. The nearest thing to it Harry had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party, who had all been playing the musical saw.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee...Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, guys!"

"It was someone being tortured!" said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're both going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," said George. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing...maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower. Harry."

"That would be a Kodak moment!" Tess yelled.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" said Fred.

Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch -"

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.

"Just my little joke, Neville..."

Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?"

"Yep," said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. "'anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful...get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice.

"Easy," said Fred, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and -" He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. "Why?"

"Nothing," said Hermione quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" said George. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" said Fred warningly. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

"Oh - sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot - it was the custard creams we hexed -"

Within a minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in laughing.

"Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them - seven Sickles each, a bargain!"

"Maybe Tess' egg is different!" Someone shouted, prompting everyone to cheer at her and beg her to open it, but the minute she did, the same screech came from the egg.

"What the bloody hell was that?" They all heard Ron in the doorway.

There was an awkard silence before Fred said out loud, "Alright everyone..go back to your knitting. This is gonna be uncomfortable."

Harry walked up to Ron while everyone went on their business. He was looking at Ron, who was very white and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you in! You or Tess'd have to be barking mad to do it."

It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though Harry were meeting Ron for the first time, right after he'd been made champion.

"Caught on, have you?" said Harry coldly. "Took you long enough."

Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Tess was grinning her face off. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly he found he didn't need to hear it.

"It's okay," he said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it."

"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've -"

"Forget it, "Harry said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.

Hermione burst into tears.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, bewildered.

"You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug, then gave Tess one and dashed away, now positively howling.

It was nearly one in the morning when Tess finally went up to the dormitory with Hermione, Lavendar, Parvati, and Winona. They stayed up for a bit more, because of the girls fussing over Tess and her injuries. Before she pulled the curtains of her four-poster shut. Tess set his tiny model of the Spanish Spitfire on the table next to his bed, where it yawned, curled up, and closed its eyes.

 _Huh_. Tess thought, as she pulled the hangings on his four-poster closed. _Maybe_ _Hagrid had a point...they were all right, really, dragons..._

But either way, Tess didn't want to care. She and her brother were alive and everyone was friends again.


	36. Chapter 36

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter. Harry and Tess were glad of its fires and thick walls every time they passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. Harry thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too, although Tess was convinced that there were either enchantments or they were super used to the cold in their home countries. Hagrid, he noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the comer of their paddock was enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as they were still tending the horrible skrewts and needed their wits about them.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an see if they fancied a kip...we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes..."

There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combined to make the skrewts the most repulsive things Harry had ever seen. ("Eh, nothing beats gruesome like the original Friday the 13th movie." said Tess) The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, "Don panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class - Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead - had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together they managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one skrewt was left.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid shouted as Ron, Tess and Harry used their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which was advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering, over its back. "Jus' try an slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won hurt any o' the others!"

"You mean hurt his pals or hurt **us**?!" Tess snapped angrily while trying to pull a skrewt from stinging her hand.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Ron shouted angrily as he and Harry backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin, still holding the skrewt off with their sparks.

"Well, well, well...this does look like fun."

Rita Skeeter was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar today, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.

Hagrid launched himself forward on top of the skrewt that was cornering Harry and Ron and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out of its end, withering the pumpkin plants nearby.

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked Rita Skeeter as he slipped a loop of rope around the skrewt's sting and tightened it.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Rita replied, beaming at him. Her gold teeth glinted.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he got off the slightly squashed skrewt and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Rita acted as though she hadn't heard what Hagrid had said.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming still more widely.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," grunted Hagrid.

"Really?" said Rita, apparently full of lively interest. "I've never heard of them before...where do they come from?"

Harry noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid's wild black beard, and his heart sank. Where had Hagrid got the skrewts from? Hermione, who seemed to be thinking along these lines, said quickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they. Harry?"

"What? Oh yeah...ouch...interesting," said Harry as she stepped on his foot.

"I uber likes em." said Tess.

"Ah, you're here. Harry, Quintessa!" said Rita Skeeter as she looked around. "So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you two? One of your favorite lessons?"

"Yes," said Harry stoutly while Tess nodded. Hagrid beamed at them.

"Lovely," said Rita. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" she added to Hagrid.

Harry noticed her eyes travel over Dean (who had a nasty cut across one cheek). Lavender (whose robes were badly singed), Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers), Winona (Whose foot was smoking from the fire just put out) and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass waiting to see if the coast was clear.

"This is o'ny me second year," said Hagrid.

"Lovely...I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these - er - Bang-Ended Scoots."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er - yeah, why not?"

Tess already knew what was comingabout this, but there was no way of communicating it to Hagrid without Rita Skeeter seeing, so she had to stand and watch in silence as Hagrid and Rita Skeeter made arrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week. She did warn Rita, but after seeing one article about Tess being a psychopath who needed to be analyzed, she gave up knowing Rita could do worse. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson.

"Well, good-bye, champions!" Rita Skeeter called merrily to him as they set off with Ron and Hermione. "Until Friday night, then, Hagrid!"

"She'll twist everything he says," Harry said under his breath.

"Of course she will." said Tess. "It's what reporters live to do."

"Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally or anything," said Hermione desperately. They looked at one another - it was exactly the sort of thing Hagrid might do.

"Yep." said Tess. "He's screwed this time."

"Hagrid's been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledore's never sacked him," said Ron consolingly. "Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry...did I say worst? I meant best."

Tess slapped Ron in the head, Harry and Hermione laughed, and, feeling slightly more cheerful, went off to lunch.

Harry thoroughly enjoyed double Divination that afternoon; they were still doing star charts and predictions, but now that he and Ron were friends once more, the whole thing seemed very funny again. Professor Trelawney, who had been so pleased with the pair of them when they had been predicting their own horrific deaths, quickly became irritated as they sniggered through her explanation of the various ways in which Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

"I would think," she said, in a mystical whisper that did not conceal her obvious annoyance, "that some of us" - she stared very meaningfully at Harry- "might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths...and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"

"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Ron muttered under his breath.

Harry fought hard to keep his face straight.

"Death, my dears."

Parvati and Lavender both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified.

"Yes," said Professor Trelawney, nodding impressively, "it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower...ever lower over the castle..."

She stared pointedly at Harry, who yawned very widely and obviously.

"It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it about eighty times before," Harry said as they finally regained the fresh air of the staircase beneath Professor Trelawney's room. "But if I'd dropped dead every time she's told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle."

"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," said Ron, chortling, as they passed the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. "At least we didn't get homework. I hope Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, I love not working when she is..."

But Hermione wasn't at dinner, nor was she in the library when they went to look for her afterward. The only person in there was Viktor Krum. Ron hovered behind the bookshelves for a while, watching Krum, debating in whispers with Harry whether he should ask for an autograph - but then Ron realized that six or seven girls were lurking in the next row of books, debating exactly the same thing, and he lost his enthusiasm for the idea.

"Wonder where she's got to?" Ron said as he and Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Dunno...balderdash."

The Fat Lady let them in, to see Tess doing some homework, but she looked slightly pink. More than slightly actually.

"Hey Tess." said Harry. "Where's Hermione?"

"Granger?" Tess asked, dipping her quill in the ink. "I haven't seen her since the last time I saw her."

"And when was that?" Ron asked.

"The last I saw her?" Tess asked. "It was the time I saw her last."

"Tess." said Harry protectively. "What's going on?"

"No." said Tess shaking her head. "You might kill him."

Ron sniggered, thinking, _This should be good._ While Harry's eyes became fierce as he tried to stay civil as possible. "Oh. There's a 'him' now. Would be Malfoy by any chance."

"Harry!" Hermione panted, skidding to a halt beside him.. "Harry, you've got to come - you've got to come, the most amazing thing's happened - please -"

She seized Harry's arm and started to try to drag him back along the corridor.

"So." said Ron sitting down next to Tess. "What exactly **did** happen with you and Malfoy?"

Tess almost turned red as Ron's hair. "I may have friendzoned him when he asked me out." She said, remembering when Draco had talked to her in between classes.

_It was after her Numerology class, which was different from Arithmancy, because Arithmancy determined the future, whereas Numerology was all about codes, when it happened._

" _Hey Tess!" She heard someone call out. She turned to see it was Malfoy running toward her._

" _Oh hello." She said. "I thought I heard a ferret squeak."_

_Draco turned pink in embarrassment. He was a Malfoy, composed, cold, and calculating to all of the world had to offer. But around her, he was almost a normal boy, dealing with a crush. "Wanna go for a walk?"_

_He led her to an empty corner. "I've got class next." Tess said._

" _Oh come on." said Draco. "You're Tess Crosswell. Who gives a damn about class?"_

" _I can't believe I'm saying this, but I do." said Tess. "I may be a champion but it don't mean I can do whatever I want."_

_It was then that Malfoy couldn't hold it in anymore. Before he could even think of what he was saying, he spat out, "Tess will you go to the Yule Ball with me?!"_

_Tess stood back flabbergasted at the question. She had no idea what a Yule Ball was or what he was asking her about, but she had a clue, and it didn't sit right with her._

" _Are-are you trying to ask me out?" Tess asked somewhat offended. "Like a date? Is that why you called me out here?"_

" _What?" Draco before stammering, "Tess, I-I-I didn't mean it like that! I swear! It was just an invitation."_

" _For what? What the hell are you trying to do Malfoy?" Tess asked incredulously. "Hit on me? We know each other, but not that well!"_

" _I'm sorry!" Malfoy exclaimed. "I couldn't help myself!"_

_When they noticed that all of the hallway was empty, Tess gave her steely gaze back on Malfoy and said, "I will get back to you on all of this later."_

_She left Malfoy, who threw his head against the wall, hitting it repeatedly, as he shouted, "Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!"_


	37. Chapter 37

The first task may have been over for the champions, but there was the unspoken task that was known by the teachers and most of the Slytherins.

The first unravel of the chain of events that would shape most of the students' view on themselves, first took place in the Great Hall one morning.

The Golden Quartet was busy talking together, eating their breakfast, the Patil Twins walking by saying, "Hi Harry/Tess."

Harry was watching the Ravenclaw Table, looking at Cho Chang, and her with her friends, looking at him back, causing him to accidentally drop some of his pumpkin juice from his mouth.

"Shush!" Cho said to the Ravenclaw girls who sniggered.

"Unbelievable!" Tess muttered, looking at the Daily Prophet.

"What's the problem?" Hermione asked.

"It's not what's in this goddamn article." said Tess. "Ok maybe it is, but...how did that bitch of a woman know about it in the first place?"

"Let me see." said Ron yanking the paper and began to read,

_Miss Crosswell, an American juvenile delinquent seems to be pulling hard to get with the boys around Hogwarts. Her latest victim, sources report, is none other than schoolboy aristocrat, Draco Malfoy. No word yet on how he's taking his emotional blow._

Harry's spoon clattered in his porridge as he looked at Tess as if to say, 'You're in so much trouble.'

"Tess what did I say about going to see him?" Harry asked.

"So what now?" Tess asked. "You get to decide who I can and can't be friends with?"

"I'm not saying that." said Harry. "It's just..I don't trust him around you."

"Or you don't trust any boy who's around me." said Tess. "Need I remind you of the Corridor Boy incident?"

"That was a mistake." said Harry. "I didn't know he needed some help with his Charms."

"Parcel for you Mr. Weasley." a first year Gryffindor boy came by with a large package.

"Oh thank you Nigel." said Ron tacking the package. When they noticed Nigel didn't leave because he kept looking at Harry and Tess, Ron whispered, "Not now Nigel, later." When the first year left, they all threw questioning glances at Ron. "I told him I'd get Harry's autograph."

"That's sounds sufficiently promising." Tess said sarcastically.

"Eh." Ron said, opening the package. "Oh look, Mum sent me something." He pulled out a lacy maroon dress robe. "Mum sent me a dress."

A few students laughed as Harry spoke, "Well it does match your eyes. Is there a bonnet? Aha!" He pulled out a white lacy bonnet with a bowtie on top.

"Nose down, Harry." Ron said walking over to his sister, Ginny. "Hey, these must be for you."

"I'm not wearing that." She said with disgust. "It's ghastly."

Hermione laughed as the entire Gryffindor table fell silent. "What are you on about?" Ron asked.

"They're not for Ginny!" Hermione said. "They're for **you**!" The entire table laughed at his embarrassment. "Dress robes!"

"Dress robes?" Ron asked. "For what?"

Their questions were answered when the Transfiguration lesson commenced. Only it wasn't really a lesson for Transfiguration. There were benches on opposite sides of the classroom, and a record player was set up in the middle that was being tuned by Filch.

"Girls one the right side and boys on the left please." McGonagall ordered and everyone split in two, going to their sides. Except for one. "This means **you** , Crosswell."

Tess got up from the boys' side and ran to the girl's.

"We'll miss you Tess!" The Weasley Twins yelled in mock sadness.

"I'll never forget you!" Tess shouted in the same tone.

"Silence!" McGonagall ordered. "The Yule Ball is approaching - which has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, since its inception." Professor McGonagall announced in the lesson. "On Christmas Day night, we and our foreign guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of **well mannered frivolity**." It looked like she was talking to the boys mostly. "As representatives of the host school, I expect each **and** everyone to put their best foot forward-and I do mean this literally because...the Yule Ball, is first and foremost...a dance!" All the girls started whispering excited while half of the boys, including Tess, felt the need to stab themselves with a knife.

 _So this is what Draco meant!_ Tess realized.

"Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish -"

Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, Professor McGonagall ignored them, which Harry thought was distinctly unfair, as she had just told off him and Ron.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -"

Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. Harry could see what was funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

"But that does NOT mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. The House of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly 10 centuries. I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons!"

"Try saying that five times fast." Fred whispered to George.

"Now to dance, is to let the body," McGonagall moved her arms rhythmically for emphasis. "Breathe. Inside every girl, a secret swan lies, longing to burst forth and take flight."

Tess turned away from sight to gag.

"Something's about to come out of Eloise Midgen but I don't think it's a swan." Ron whispered to Seamus.

"Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance." said McGonagall watching Ron and walking towards him. "Mr. Weasley."

"Yes?" Ron asked weakly.

"Will you join me please?"

The boys started sniggering while Tess was struggling not to burst out in laughter. "Now place your right hand on my waist." McGonagall instructed.

"My what?" Ron asked, now very white.

"My waist." McGonagall repeated while someone wold whistled. "Filch!" He turned on the music. "One two three, one two three, one two three.."

The Weasley Twins were doing a poor imitation of it when Harry whispered, "Oi! You're never gonna let him forget this are you?"

"Never." The Weasley Twins said in unison.

"Everybody come up." said McGonagall, the girls immediately obeying. "Boys on your feet."

When she saw everyone up and dancing, she just rolled her eyes and got up as well.

The bell rang after what seemed like forever, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

By the end of the day, Tess went immedeatley to her dormitory for her study period and flopped down on bed.

"Are you ok?" Hermione asked.

"Let me be the one to break the silence." Tess said, looking dazed into the ceiling. "That was the most horrific thing I had ever experienced, and that includes my cousin's singing in the shower.

"Tess you were not that bad!" Hermione said. "So you stepped on a few toes."

"Or a few hundred." Tess muttered.

"Hey what's that package?" Hermione pointed to the red wrapped package next to Tess.

"Wow." Tess said picking it up. "Do not know how I missed that."

"Neither do I." said Hermione sarcastically.

Tess opened it and there was a letter on top of the white package with something red under it.

Tess opened the letter and began to read from it,

_Tess,_

_By the time you get this, you know of the Yule Ball already. Remember the tailors I sent for you a few days before the first task? Those people with my asking for help, agreed to put together this collection of paints. It's up to you to create the masterpiece I know you'll become on the night of the ball. Secretly, I'm hoping that Malfoy boy asks you because damn girl, it's about time you got yourself a boy!_

_Aunt Sara_

"So **that's** what that tailor was for!" Tess said, pulling apart the white paper and looked at it before "fainting" dramatically.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiling at her friend's antics before seeing what was in the package and gasping in wonder at the sight, with a pair of silver 2 ½ criss cross sandals, silver jewelry, and some makeup, lied the real deal;

A beautiful, beautiful red dress.

"Oh Tess you **have** to go." said Hermione, touching the smooth silky fabric. "At least to wear this for one night."

What was heard outside next, sounded like someone being tortured, but it was actually Tess groaning in dramatic agony.

"Worst. Day. Ever."


	38. Chapter 38

A week ago, Harry would have said finding a partner for a dance would be a cinch compared to taking on a Hungarian Horntail. But now that he had done the latter, and was facing the prospect of asking a girl to the ball, he thought he'd rather have another round with the dragon.

Tess had never been more embarrassed in her life. She had never been on a date before and she was a tomboy. The idea of being a girly girl slightly terrified her. Tess was never much of a girl to worry about her looks but she was worried she was going to look like an idiot in a dress. And since she was a champion, she would have to attend anyway.

Harry had never known so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas; he always did, of course, because the alternative was usually going back to Privet Drive, but he had always been very much in the minority before now. This year, however, everyone in the fourth year and above seemed to be staying, and they all seemed to Harry to be obsessed with the coming ball - or at least all the girls were, and it was amazing how many girls Hogwarts suddenly seemed to hold; he had never quite noticed that before. Girls giggling and whispering in the corridors, girls shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night. He thanked God that Tess or Hermione weren't like that.

"Why do they have to move in packs?" Harry asked Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past them, sniggering and staring at Harry. "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

"Lasso one?" Ron suggested. "Got any idea who you're going to try?"

Harry didn't answer. He knew perfectly well whom he'd like to ask, but working up the nerve was something else...Cho was a year older than he was; she was very pretty; she was a very good Quidditch player, and she was also very popular.

Ron seemed to know what was going on inside Harry's head.

"Listen, you're not going to have any trouble. You're a champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you."

In tribute to their recently repaired friendship, Ron had kept the bitterness in his voice to a bare minimum. Moreover, to Harry's amazement, he turned out to be quite right.

A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl to whom Harry had never spoken in his life asked him to go to the ball with her the very next day. Harry was so taken aback he said no before he'd even stopped to consider the matter. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and Harry had to endure Dean's, Seamus's, and Ron's taunts about her all through History of Magic. The following day, two more girls asked him, a second year and (to his horror) a fifth year who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused.

"She was quite good-looking," said Ron fairly, after he'd stopped laughing.

"She was a foot taller than me," said Harry, still unnerved. "Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her."

Hermione's words about Krum kept coming back to him. "They only like him because he's famous!" Harry doubted very much if any of the girls who had asked to be his partner so far would have wanted to go to the ball with him if he hadn't been a school champion. Then he wondered if this would bother him if Cho asked him.

On the whole. Harry had to admit that even with the embarrassing prospect of opening the ball before him, life had definitely improved since he had got through the first task. He and Tess weren't attracting nearly as much unpleasantness in the corridors anymore, which he suspected had a lot to do with Cedric - he had an idea Cedric might have told the Hufflepuffs to leave Harry alone, in gratitude for Harry's tip-off about the dragons. There seemed to be fewer Support Cedric Diggory! badges around too. Draco Malfoy, of course, was still quoting Rita Skeeter's article to him at every possible opportunity, but he was getting fewer and fewer laughs out of it - and just to heighten Harry's feeling of well-being, no story about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Prophet. Draco and Tess were still on edge, but they both turned down proposals for partners to the Ball.

"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione asked him how his interview with Rita Skeeter had gone during the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the term. To their very great relief, Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the skrewts now, and they were merely sheltering behind his cabin today, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the skrewts.

"She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Harry," Hagrid continued in a low voice. "Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. 'Never had to tell him off in four years?' she said. 'Never played you up in lessons, has he?' I told her no, an she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry."

"'Course she did," said Harry, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up his knife to cut some more. "She can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am, it'll get boring."

"She wants a new angle, Hagrid," said Ron wisely as he shelled salamander eggs. "You were supposed to say Harry's a mad delinquent! And that's Tess' job!"

"But he's not!" said Hagrid, looking genuinely shocked.

"She should've interviewed Snape," said Harry grimly. "He'd give her the goods on me any day. 'Potter has been crossing lines ever since he first arrived at this school...'"

"Said that, did he?" said Hagrid, while Ron and Hermione laughed. "Well, yeh might've bent a few rules. Harry, bu' yeh're all righ' really, aren' you?"

"Cheers, Hagrid," said Harry, grinning.

"You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?" said Ron.

"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," said Hagrid gruffly. "Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin the dancin', won yeh, Harry? Who're you takin'?"

"No one, yet," said Harry, feeling himself going red again. Hagrid didn't pursue the subject.

While that conversation took place, Tess had come to a decision that she never thought possible; She was done waiting for Malfoy to come to her. **She** was going to go to him. So, when she cornered him talking with Crabbe and Goyle and all it took was a little Brooklyn style threat to make Crabbe and Goyle scram.

"And yet you call me unsubtle." said Draco.

"Yeah, speaking of that." said Tess. "I wanted to say sorry, for running out on you like that. I never should have run out on you, because frankly, I just never gave you a real chance. Now I'm going to make it up to you, by asking, 'Will you Draco Malfoy, be my partner for the dance?'"

"I'd thought you'd never ask." He said. "Yes." Tess then hugged him and told him to wait in the Entrance Hall on that night. When she left, he let out a small, "Yes!"

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Harry didn't believe half of them - for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters. Exactly who or what the Weird Sisters were Harry didn't know, never having had access to a wizard's wireless, but he deduced from the wild excitement of those who had grown up listening to the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) that they were a very famous musical group.

Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach them much when their minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed them to play games in his lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm Harry had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from plowing on through his notes on goblin rebellions - as Binns hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. It was amazing how he could make even bloody and vicious goblin riots sound as boring as Percy's cauldron-bottom report. Professors McGonagall and Moody kept them working until the very last second of their classes too, and Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Harry. Staring nastily around at them all, he informed them that he would be monitoring a study session on poisons in the Great Hall with all of his other classes before testing them on the last day.

"Evil git he is." said Ron. "Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying." Snape then pushed Ron on the head. "At this rate we'll be the only ones without dates. Well besides Neville."

"Yeah but he can take himself." Harry quipped.

"You should know that Neville's got someone." said Tess.

"Oh!" Said Ron. "Now I'm really depressed."

Fred was listening because he hurled a piece of parchemnt at Ron.

"Get a move on before all the good ones are gone." Ron whispered, reading it. "Who are you going with then?" Ron asked his friend.

Fred smirked at Ron before hurling a piece of parchment at Angelina Johnson. "Oi! Angelina!" He whispered so Snape wouldn't hear them.

"What?" She asked.

Fred made movements, to emphasise his question, "Do you (He pointed to the seventh year) wanna go (He then made a move as if dancing with someone) with me?" (He pointed to himself.)

"The ball?" Angelina whispered. "Yeah.

Fred winked triumphantly at Ron who then turned to the girls. "Well Hermione, Tess, you're both girls."

Hermione scoffed annoyed. "Well spotted." She said, while Tess rolled her eyes.

"Can't you two go with us?" Ron asked before he and Harry got slapped by Snape's book in the head.

"Mmm...you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?" said Hermione, looking at him over the top of her Potions notes.

"I'm just saying." Said Ron. "It's pathetic for a guy to go alone. For a girl, it's just sad."

Hermione looked severely over at them and Tess did too. "I won't be going alone because believe it or not, someone's asked me!" She walked up and gave Snape her work while she went back to get her stuff. "And I said yes!"

While Hermione stormed off, Harry turned to Tess and asked, "Who's going with you then?"

Tess rolled her eyes, leaving a piece of paper on the desk and saying before going to give Snape her work, "I didn't say I was going."

As she left, the boys turned to each other confused. "The girls have gone mental." said Ron. "And why did Tess say she wasn't going with someone?"

"Because she never said she was not actually going with someone." Harry clarified, or tried to based on the even more confused look on Ron's face.

"Right." said Ron as Professor Snape pulled down his collar and readied his hands. "Tonight, when we'll get to the common room, we'll both have partners. Agreed?"

"Agreed." said Harry, just as Snape pushed Ron and Harry's heads down.

"Wait." said Ron, picking up the piece of paper Tess left behind. He opened it and read in a hushed silence,

_Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber,_

_I'm not helping you or telling you how to get a date, so man up and get one yourself._

_By 8 pm, I want to see you in the common room with partners. If you are one minute late, I will go to Hogsmeade and find a kitty cat. I will let one or both of you fall in love with that kitty cat. And then on some dark cold night, I will steal away in your dorms, and punch you both in the face._


	39. Chapter 39

But every time Harry glimpsed Cho that day - during break, and then lunchtime, and once on the way to History of Magic - she was surrounded by friends. Didn't she ever go anywhere alone? Could he perhaps ambush her as she was going into a bathroom? But no - she even seemed to go there with an escort of four or five girls. Yet if he didn't do it soon, she was bound to have been asked by somebody else.

He found it hard to concentrate on Snape's Potions test, and consequently forgot to add the key ingredient - a bezoar - meaning that he received bottom marks. He didn't care, though; he was too busy screwing up his courage for what he was about to do. When the bell rang, he grabbed his bag, and hurried to the dungeon door.

"I'll meet you at dinner," he said to Ron, Tess, and Hermione, and he dashed off upstairs.

He'd just have to ask Cho for a private word, that was all...He hurried off through the packed corridors looking for her, and (rather sooner than he had expected) he found her, emerging from a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"Er - Cho? Could I have a word with you?"

Giggling should be made illegal. Harry thought furiously, as all the girls around Cho started doing it. She didn't, though. She said, "Okay," and followed him out of earshot other classmates.

Harry turned to look at her and his stomach gave a weird lurch as though he had missed a step going downstairs.

"Er," he said.

He couldn't ask her. He couldn't. But he had to. Cho stood there looking puzzled, watching him. The words came out before Harry had quite got his tongue around them.

"Wangoballwime?"

"Sorry?" said Cho.

"D'you - d'you want to go to the ball with me?" said Harry. Why did he have to go red now? Why?

"Oh!" said Cho, and she went red too. "Oh Harry, I'm really sorry," and she truly looked it. "I've already said I'll go with someone else."

"Oh," said Harry.

It was odd; a moment before his insides had been writhing like snakes, but suddenly he didn't seem to have any insides at all.

"Oh okay," he said, "no problem."

"I'm really sorry," she said again.

"That's okay," said Harry.

They stood there looking at each other, and then Cho said, "Well -"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Well, 'bye," said Cho, still very red. She walked away.

Harry called after her, before he could stop himself.

"Who're you going with?"

"Oh - Cedric," she said. "Cedric Diggory."

"Oh right," said Harry.

His insides had come back again. It felt as though they had been filled with lead in their absence.

Completely forgetting about dinner, he walked slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower, Cho's voice echoing in his ears with every step he took. "Cedric - Cedric Diggory." He had been starting to quite like Cedric - prepared to overlook the fact that he had once beaten him at Quidditch, and was handsome, and popular, and nearly everyone's favorite champion. Now he suddenly realized that Cedric was in fact a useless pretty boy who didn't have enough brains to fill an eggcup.

"Fairy lights," he said dully to the Fat Lady - the password had been changed the previous day.

"Yes, indeed, dear!" she trilled, straightening her new tinsel hair band as she swung forward to admit him.

Entering the common room, Harry looked around, and sat down to see Hermione next to him.

"Hey Hermione." said Harry. "Are you really going to the ball by yourself or was that a fib?"

"Now that you bring that subject to light." said Hermione. "That is for me to know and for you to find out."

The portrait door came open and surrounded by helpful girls, was Ron. They had partners to the ball but that wasn't the reason why Ron was looking ashen faced and almost unable to walk.

"What's up, Ron?" said Harry, joining them.

Ron looked up at Harry, a sort of blind horror in his face.

"Why did I do it?" he said wildly. "I don't know what made me do it!

"What?" said Harry.

"He just asked Fleur Delacour out" said Ginny. She looked as though she was fighting back a cringe, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You what?' said Harry.

"What's the ginger done now?" Tess asked.

"Ron's just asked Fleur to the Ball." said Winona.

"No way!" Tess gasped.

"It wasn't really asked, if you recall." said Lavendar.

"What did she say?" Harry asked.

"She refused?" Hermione asked. Ron shook his head, looking sick. "She said yes?"

"Was it a maybe?" Tess asked sympathetically.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people - all around - I've gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall - she was walking with some of the boys from her school-you know how I love it when those girls walk - and it sort of came over me - and I asked her!"

Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable.

"Actually he sort of screamed at her." said Ginny. "It was a bit frightening."

"She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then - I dunno - I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

"She's part veela," said Harry. "You were right - her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it - but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."

Ron looked up.

"I asked her to go with me just now," Harry said dully, "and she told me."

Tess winced, patting Harry's shoulder. "Tough luck man."

Ron goggled at Harry.

"I'm not cut out for this. What are we gonna do?" he asked now scared for his life.

But Harry had just seen Parvati and Padma come in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action.

"Wait here," he said to Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, "Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?"

Parvati went into a fit of giggles. Harry waited for them to subside, his fingers crossed in the pocket of his robes.

"Yes, all right then," she said finally, blushing furiously.

"Thanks," said Harry, in relief. "Padma - will you go with Ron?"

The pair of them giggled harder than ever.

Harry sighed.

"What about Hermione Granger?" said Padma.

"She's going with someone else."

Parvati looked astonished.

"Ooooh - who?" she said keenly.

"What about Tess?" asked Padma.

"She's taken." said Harry.

"Really?!" Padma nearly shrieked. "Who's the lucky boy?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea," he said. "So what about Ron?"

"Well..." said Padma slowly, "I suppose I could."

"Yeah, that would be great," said Harry. "Let me know, will you?"

And he went back over to Ron, feeling that this ball was a lot more trouble than it was worth.


	40. Chapter 40

Unfortunately a week and a half before the Ball, when Tess thought things would remain at least some part of normal, things got worse when Professor Dumbledore had called the girl champions into his office. Outside the door, a girly scream came from the room and it wasn't out of happiness.

"Hold on." said Tess, clearly panicking. "Come again?"

" 'Ou vant us to do what?" Fleur asked.

"As per the Triwizard Tournament." Dumbledore explained. "Any female champion must perform a special role in the Yule Ball. And that is, to open her heart and sing her heart about herself and her school. Fleur was to be the default singer but now… you two shall decide in a series of auditions."

"No." said Fleur. "I vill not sing."

"I agree with Femme Beauxtaile." Tess said.

"Why is that ladies?" Dumbledore asked, his tone took an annoyed approach.

"I mean no disrespect Professor but singing is pointless." said Tess. "I don't sing."

"It shows respect for your school." said Professor Dumbledore. "When I was a boy, I enjoyed singing, but not as much as chamber music. As champions of the school, not only will you be commencing the ball with your opening dance, one of you will be singing for the Ball. But you can either choose to audition or debate. You are free to choose." Dumbledore left the room, with the two champions to decide.

"So…." said Tess after an awkward silence. "Rock paper scissors?"

"Quel est ce jue, Rock papier zizzors?" Fleur asked.

"It's a game of wits." said Tess. "You wanna try it out?"

Fleur shook her head rapidly. "Non. Je ne désire pas a chanter."

"Pourquoi?" Tess asked in French.

"Ze zing iz.." Fleur said, grimacing in embarrassment. "Ze last time I tried to zing in front of ze public-" She stopped, shaking her head, remembering the embarrassment all too well.

"Fleur." said Tess, hugging her. "C'est d'accord. Je comprendre si c'est tres mal a parler."

"Not ze best French." said Fleur smiling. "But it's good. Tess, mon amie, 'ou were craizy when 'ou tried too ride zat dragon, et, 'ou are ze only un 'hoo will take risks. 'Ou can doo zis Tess. I believe in 'ou."

"Well." said Tess scratching her head. "If no one's gonna wanna stand up, someone has to."

At that moment, Dumbledore came in and asked, "What say you ladies?"

Fleur and Tess looked at each other before the American walked in front of the Headmaster and said, "Alright. I'll sing. But I'm calling the shots on what I sing."


	41. Chapter 41

Despite the very heavy load of homework that the fourth years had been given for the holidays. Harry was in no mood to work when term ended, and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying himself as fully as possible along with everyone else. Gryffindor Tower was hardly less crowded now than during term-time; it seemed to have shrunk slightly too, as its inhabitants were being so much rowdier than usual. Fred and George had had a great success with their Canary Creams, and for the first couple of days of the holidays, people kept bursting into feathers all over the place. Before long, however, all the Gryffindors had learned to treat food anybody else offered them with extreme caution, in case it had a Canary Cream concealed in the center, and George confided to Harry that he and Fred were now working on developing something else. Harry made a mental note never to accept so much as a crisp from Fred and George in future. He still hadn't forgotten Dudley and the Ton-Tongue Toffee.

Tess had never had an event to look more than ever. Every day, she tapped on the desks of her lessons, begging time to move faster. Even with the rehearsals for singing at the Yule Ball, she still wished and wished that the clock would move faster. It took her all of her strength not to go crazy at how slow the Potions exam went, but when the bell ended, signaling the end of the lesson, Tess nearly screamed, "I'm Free!" and ran off with Snape yelling at her to get back. The only thing Tess had to actually worry about, was how to make her hair not like Medusa's hair.

On the way to class one day, she was approached by one Pansy Parkinson.

"Stay away from him." Pansy hissed. "You're gonna get hurt, **bad**. I don't know why he rejected **me** and asked **you** when I'm the one with noble blood."

"Ok Parkinson." said Tess, snapping her fingers in a Z motion. "Let me break this down for you...NOBODY CARES!"

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and one time, Hermione found a Beauxbatons boy who seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

"It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," they heard him saying grumpily as they left the Great Hall behind him one evening (Ron skulking behind Harry, keen not to be spotted by the bpy). "I will not fit into my zut!"

"Oooh there's a tragedy," Hermione snapped as the Beauxbatons boy went out into the entrance hall. "He really doesn't understand just how hard those house elves work!"

"Hermione," said Ron, looking sideways at her, suddenly frowning, "your teeth..."

"What about them?" she said.

"Well, they're different...I've just noticed..."

"Of course they are - did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?"

"No, I mean, they're different to how they were before he put that hex on you...They're all...straight and - and normal-sized."

Hermione suddenly smiled very mischievously, and Tess with Harry noticed it too: It was a very different smile from the one he remembered.

"Well...when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were," she said. "And I just...let her carry on a bit." She smiled even more widely. "Mum and Dad won't be too pleased. I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. You know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should - look! Pigwidgeon's back!"

Ron's tiny owl was twittering madly on the top of the icicle-laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third-year girls paused and said, "Oh look at the weeny owl! Isn't he cute?"

Stupid little feathery git!" Ron hissed, hurrying up the stairs and snatching up Pigwidgeon. "You bring letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!"

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, his head protruding over Ron's fist. The third-year girls all looked very shocked.

"Clear off!" Ron snapped at them, waving the fist holding Pigwidgeon, who hooted more happily than ever as he soared through the air. "Here - take it, Harry," Ron added in an undertone as the third-year girls scuttled away looking scandalized. He pulled Sirius's reply off Pigwidgeons leg. Harry pocketed it, and they hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it.

Everyone in the common room was much too busy in letting off more holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to. Ron, Harry, Tess, and Hermione sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow, and Harry read out:

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitus Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point - "That's what Krum did!" Hermione whispered - but your way was better, I'm impressed.

Don't get complacent, though. Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open -particularly when the person we discussed is around and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.

Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.

Sirius

"He sounds exactly like Moody," said Harry quietly, tucking the letter away again inside his robes. "'Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls..."

"I got a similar letter." said Tess. "Only he said for me to please be careful next time I almost get killed and he kind of scolded me for literally risking my ass."

"Well take it from me." said Ron quietly. "Fathers are gonna do what fathers are gonna do, and that is to annoy the bloody hell out of their kids."

"But he's right, guys." said Hermione, "you both have still got two tasks to do. You both really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means..."

"Ya think I haven't tried Mione?" Tess asked. "I've tried several numerology ways to crack it but no numbers add up-literally. And I don't speak what sounds like a dying chicken being strangled to death."

"Hermione, they've got ages!" snapped Ron. "Want a game of chess, Harry?"

"Yeah, okay," said Harry. Then, spotting the look on Hermione's face, he said, "Come on, how'm I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot."

"Oh I suppose not," she sighed, and she sat down to watch their chess match, which culminated in an exciting checkmate of Ron's, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

Tess awoke very suddenly on Christmas Day. Wondering what had caused her abrupt return to consciousness, she opened her eyes, and saw something with very large, round, green eyes staring back at her in the darkness, so close they were almost nose to nose. Tess nearly kicked the creature off when she realized who it was

"Dobby!" Tess yelled. "Don't do that!"

"Dobby is sorry, sir!" squeaked Dobby anxiously, jumping backward with his long fingers over her mouth. "Dobby is only wanting to wish Quintessa Crosswell, 'Merry Christmas' and bring him a present, Miss! Harry Potter did say Dobby could come and see you today, miss!"

It's okay," said Tess. "Just don't scare me like that. I stabbed a dragon in the eye, so you can expect my reaction."

"Can Dobby give Quintessa Crosswell her present?" he squeaked tentatively.

"'Like you have to ask," said Tess. "Uh...I've got a little something for you too."

She pulled out the red and gold scarf from her purchase at Diagon Alley and handed the scarf to Dobby, saying, "Sorry, it's not the best thing I can getcha..."

But Dobby was utterly delighted.

"Dobby has been looking for a scarf, need to keep warm in these harsh winters, miss!" he said, ripping off the scarf from Tess' hands and putting it on. "I has seven pairs of socks now, miss...But miss..." he said, his eyes widening, having pulled the scarf up on his neck, and they almost covered all of his ears "Dobby is grateful!"

"Dobby?" said Hermione, looking at the elf. "Tell you what, Dobby - here you go - take these mittens, and you can mix them up properly. And here's your sweater."

She threw Dobby a pair of green socks she had just unwrapped, and the hand-knitted sweater Mrs. Weasley had sent, Dobby looked quite overwhelmed.

"Miss is very kind!" he squeaked, his eyes brimming with tears again, bowing deeply to Ron. "Dobby knew miss must be a great witch, for she is Harry Potter's greatest friend, but Dobby did not know that she was also as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless -"

"They're only mittens," said Hermione, who had gone slightly pink around the ears, though she looked rather pleased all the same.

"Dobby must go now, misses, we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!" said Dobby, and he hurried out of the dormitory, waving good-bye to Hermione and the others as he passed.

Harry's other presents were much more satisfactory than Dobby's odd socks and scarf - with the obvious exception of the Dursleys', which consisted of a single tissue, an all-time low - Harry supposed they too were remembering the Ton-Tongue Toffee. Hermione had given Harry a book called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland; Ron, a bulging bag of Dungbombs; Sirius, a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot; Tess, a box of Illuminus Peppermint Canes, peppermint canes from America that glowed and made your teeth glow in either red, green or white, and Hagrid, a vast box of sweets including all Harry's favorites: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and Fizzing Whizbees. There was also, of course, Mrs. Weasley's usual package, including a new sweater (green, with a picture of a dragon on it - Harry supposed Charlie had told her all about the Horntail), and a large quantity of homemade mince pies.

Harry and Ron met up with Tess and Hermione in the common room, and they went down to breakfast together. They spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.

They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Hermione chose to watch Tess with Harry and the Weasleys' snowball fight rather than join in, and at five o'clock said she and Tess was going back upstairs to get ready for the ball.

"What, you two need three hours?" said Ron, looking at her incredulously and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head.

"Ronald." said Tess. "Our beauty is like a warm pie. If it's not warmed up right, it doesn't rise."

"Who're you going with?" he yelled after Hermione and Tess, but she just waved and disappeared up the stone steps into the castle.

When they entered the dormitory, they found all the other girls getting ready. When it was Tess' turn for the bathroom, she took a shower, and dried herself off as she pulled the curtains of her bed. She took out the package her aunt sent, and looked at the package. Tonight, was the night. The night from being a tomboy, to natural women. She slipped on the dress and absentmindedly combed her hair with her fingers when she noticed something was off.

"Guys?" Tess called out.

"Yes?" Winona and Hermione's voices rang out.

"Do any of you know how to do hair?" Tess asked weakly.

"I do." said Winona, stepping into the bed with Tess and cringing at the sight of her straight-as-a-board hair lying against her red dress. "Oh dear God. Lucky I can fix this." So Winona got out her wand and cast a simple charm that started to curl Tess' blonde hair a little and turned it from simple greasy look to a masterpiece. After that, Winona insisted that she would do her makeup. After a while after Winona left to help Hermione, Tess was left to put on her 2 inch silver sandal heels and fake diamond bracelet, when Hermione called out her name.

"Come one Tess!" Hermione said. "Let me see!"

"No." Tess grumbled. "I look like a loser."

"I'm the one who did the work on your face remember?" Winona asked.

Tess stepped out of the curtains and the girls gasped.

"Mione!" Tess exclaimed, seeing her best friend already glammed out in her dress. "You look gorgeous!"

"Oh you should talk!" said Hermione.

"Oh no." said Winona. "Not yet you are." She put on and tightened the final piece, a silver colored necklace. Tess went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to see staring back at her was a different person. Hermione gasped, having the same reaction.

"Wow." said Hermione,

"I-I...I look."

"Say it." said Winona who was already in her navy dress.

"Not hideous." said Tess.

"Not even close." said Winona.

There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly, the others abandoned their snowball fight and trooped back to the common room. The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet from downstairs, both of them extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littering the bottom other picture.

"Lairy fights, that's the one!" she giggled when they gave the password, and she swung forward to let them inside.

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville changed into their dress robes/suits up in their dormitory, all of them looking very self-conscious, but none as much as Ron, who surveyed himself in the long mirror in the corner with an appalled look on his face.

"Bloody hell." said Ron still frightened of his own Harry came in, he was already dressed in his suit and with a toothbrush. "What are those?" Ron asked. "What are those?"

"My dress robes." Harry simply answered.

"Well they're alright!" said Ron. "No lace, no dodgy little collar."

"Well I expect yours are more tradition-"

"Traditional?" Ron cut Harry off. "They're ancient! I look like my Great Aunt Tessie!" He lifted his armpit and sniffed it. "I smell like my Great Aunt Tessie."

"Don't let Tess hear that." said Harry.

"Murder me Harry." said Ron.

"I still can't work out how you two got the best-looking girls in the year," muttered Dean.

"Animal magnetism," said Ron gloomily, pulling stray threads out of his cuffs.

The halls looked strange, full of people wearing different colors instead of the usual mass of black.

"Stop messing with it!" Harry muttered to Ron.

"She's probably bawling her eyes out." said Ron.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Hermione of course." said Ron. "I suppose Malfoy will be down here as well."

"Since when are you concerned about Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Are you really that stupid?" Ron asked his best friend. "I may not know who Hermione is going with, but I know who Tess' partner is."

"No." said Harry. "No. If she is though, I need to give Malfoy a little talk."

Parvati and Padma was waiting for Harry at the foot of the stairs in the entrance Hall. She looked very pretty indeed, in an Indian dress of shocking pink and orange, Padma's was with turquoise and grey, both with their long dark plait braided with gold, and gold bracelets glimmering at their wrists. Harry was relieved to see that she or her sister wasn't giggling.

"You - er - look nice," he said awkwardly.

"Hello boys." The twins said before looking at Ron.

"Don't you look...dashing." said Padma to Ron.

Meanwhile, Tess was near the entrance hall when she stopped. "I can't do this." She said to herself. "I can't do this-what are you doing Tess? Get yourself together!"

A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Malfoy was in front; he was wearing a suit that slightly resembled a tuxedo Pansy Parkinson in a very frilly dress of pale pink was with her friends. Crabbe and Goyle were both wearing green; they resembled moss-colored boulders, and neither of them, Harry was pleased to see, had managed to find a partner.

The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by a pretty girl in blue robes Harry didn't know. Over their heads he saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights - meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer, being under the snow, made the picture more perfect.

He marched up to Malfoy and said, "Listen here and listen now."

"What do you want Pottead?" Malfoy sneered.

"Time for some man talk Malfoy." said Harry threateningly. "You can dance with her, you can hold her hand, but you will **not** touch her." Malfoy's jaw had dropped and was looking at the stairs of the entrance hall. "Are you listenini-"

Descending from the stairs, was at first sight, an angel. Her golden hair was now long with waves in them, like sunlight waves. She was wearing a red v-neck dress that complemented her figure with what appeared to be small diamonds lining the v on her chest and on her actual waist and hanging from her waist, was sort of like a belt, on both sides that also had diamonds. She was wearing a silver bracelet on her right wrist and on her neck was a choker necklace that had a bird in the shape of a dove and had red rubies decorating it. For makeup, she wore mascara that made her purple eyes pop out just a little. She also wore silver eyeshadow and bright clear lip gloss that made her lips look fragile.

It was Tess who had been transformed from a rebel to a woman.

She walked to Malfoy who with the other goons was staring at her. "Hey Draco." She said a little nervous. Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by with her friends, and even he didn't seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her.

"Y-ou-you look amazing." said Draco.

"You look handsome yourself." Tess said, taking his arm and waving hi to Harry.

"Who. The bloody hell. Is that?" Ron asked.

"It's Tess." said Harry.

Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim other hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Cedric and Cho were close to Harry too; he looked away from them so he wouldn't have to talk to them. His eyes fell instead on the girl next to Krum. His jaw dropped.

It was Hermione.

But she didn't look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing a dress made of a floaty, rose pink material, with pink flower earrings, mascara, eyebrows trimmed and pink lip gloss, and she was holding herself differently, somehow - or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling - rather nervously, it was true - but the reduction in the size of her front teeth was more noticeable than ever; Harry couldn't understand how he hadn't spotted it before.

"Hi, Harry!" she said. "Hi, Parvati!"

Parvati was gazing at Hermione in unflattering disbelief. She wasn't the only one either; when the doors to the Great Hall opened, Krum's fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing. Ron, however, walked right past Hermione without looking at her.


	42. Chapter 42

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded in a long aisle as they entered and started walking up toward the dance floor. Everyone was looking at the champions but when Hermione and Tess passed, the people gawked at them, especially when they saw Malfoy with her. There was the round table at the right side of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

"Is that Hermione Granger?" Padma asked "With Viktor Krum?"

"No." Ron said bitterly. "Absolutely not."

Harry concentrated on not tripping over his feet. Parvati seemed to be enjoying herself; she was beaming around at everybody, steering Harry so forcefully that he felt as though he were a show dog she was putting through its paces and waving at everybody.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the dance floor, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron's as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, Harry suddenly realized, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

When the champions and their partners reached the floor, Flitwick prepared the orchestra at the top of the Hall

"Fair warning." Tess whispered to Malfoy. "I may kill your toes."

Harry tripped over his dress robes as he stood up. The Hogwarts orchestra struck up a slow, festive tune; Harry walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone's eye (he could see Seamus and Dean waving at him and sniggering), and next moment, Parvati had seized his hands, placed one around her waist, and was holding the other tightly in hers.

Tess was doing her best not to trip or not step on anyone's toes. _Huh_. Tess thought to herself. _I've never noticed this before, but Draco's kind of a few inches taller than me._

Draco kept his hold on Tess, who wasn't a bad dancer but she wasn't good. There was even one moment as he spun her around and he lifted her for a moment like Krum with Hermione.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Harry thought, revolving slowly on the spot (Parvati was steering). He kept his eyes fixed over the heads of the watching people, and very soon many of them too had come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the center of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby - he could see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet - and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

When Parvati allowed them to stop so they could eat, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harry. Harry took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes and an expression of such smugness that Harry thought it ought to be fined.

"I've been promoted," Percy said before Harry could even ask, and from his tone, he might have been announcing his election as supreme ruler of the universe. "I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant, and I'm here representing him."

"Why didn't he come?" Harry asked. He wasn't looking forward to being lectured on cauldron bottoms all through dinner.

"I'm afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn't well, not well at all. Hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising - overwork. He's not as young as he was - though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house-elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterward, but - well, as I say, he's getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with - that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around - no, poor man, he's having a well earned, quiet Christmas. I'm just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."

Harry wanted very much to ask whether Mr. Crouch had stopped calling Percy "Weatherby" yet, but resisted the temptation.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his up uncertainly and looked around - there were no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Harry glanced up at Hermione, who was also taking a break from dancing, to see how she felt about this new and more complicated method of dining - surely it meant plenty of extra work for the house-elves? - but for once, Hermione didn't seem to be thinking about S.P.E.W. She was deep in talk with Viktor Krum and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating.

It now occurred to Harry that he had never actually heard Krum speak before, but he was certainly talking now, and very enthusiastically at that.

"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Hermione. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these - though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains -"

"Now, now, Viktor!" said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn't reach his cold eyes, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Igor, all this secrecy, one would almost think you didn't want visitors."

"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," said Dumbledore amicably. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

Harry snorted into his plate of goulash. Percy frowned, but Harry could have sworn Dumbledore had given him a very small wink.

Meanwhile Fleur Delacour was criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies.

"Zis is nothing," she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course...zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." She slapped her hand onto the table for emphasis.

Roger Davies was watching her talk with a very dazed look on his face, and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. Harry had the impression that Davies was too busy staring at Fleur to take in a word she was saying.

"Absolutely right," he said quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table in imitation of Fleur. "Like that. Yeah."

Harry looked around the Hall. Hagrid was sitting at one of the other staff tables; he was back in his horrible hairy brown suit and gazing up at the top table. Harry saw him give a small wave, and looking around, saw Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.

"I've gotta go." said Tess when McGonagall signaled her. She got up from her table where she was eating.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked her.

"I'm fine." said Tess. "I've got a special role in the Ball."

"Care to share it with me?" The Slytherin aristocrat asked.

"In your words." said Tess lowly. "It's a surprise." And Tess left to go backstage and prepare for the concert she was going to give.

Hermione was now teaching Krum to say her name properly; he kept calling her "Hermy-own."

"Her-my-oh-nee," she said slowly and clearly.

"Herm-own-ninny."

"Close enough," she said, catching Harry's eye and grinning.

While all the food was being consumed, McGonagall stood up and asked the students to be silent.

"Now." She said. "There is a tradition amongst the Yule Ball, whenever there are female champions, she is selected to perform her heart in song. Since there are two this year, there has been a debate and now, she has been chosen to perform a few songs tonight. I hope everyone enjoys this young woman's voice."

Then, with a wave of her wand, all the lights went out, though the lanterns remained on the tables, and the music started while it was still dark on the raised platform where the orchestra had left.

**(A.N this is the Glee Cast version of Beautiful. I know this is from 2002, but this is one of my favorite songs and I just could not resist.)**

A melodious voice was heard humming in harmony, that caused many students to whisper among themselves, "Who is that amazing voice?"

Their questions were answered by the light hitting the girl as soon as she began to sing the words.

_**Everyday is so wonderful** _

_**Then suddenly** _

_**It's hard to breathe** _

The spotlight hitting Tess, made her hair look silver, but that was paling in comparison to the shocked looks on everyone's faces. They were all thinking the same thing, She can sing?

_**Now and then I get insecure** _

_**From all the pain** _

_**I'm so ashamed** _

_**I am beautiful** _

_**No matter what they say** _

_**Words can't bring me down** _

_**I am beautiful** _

_**In every single way** _

_**Words can't bring me down** _

_**Oh no** _

_**So don't you bring me down today** _

The background lights grew to a painting of falling snow that was complimenting the singer in front of it. The background voice sang with Tess' angelic voice, not missing a beat or a note.

_**No matter what we do (no matter what we do)** _

_**No matter what we say (no matter what we say)** _

_**We're the song inside the tune (yeah,, yeah, yeah!)** _

_**And everywhere we go (and everywhere we go)** _

_**The sun will always shine (the sun will always, always, shine)** _

Now Tess was looking the happiest that she had ever been, truly feeling like she was a Broadway star. Every note she hit was a fresh wave of power, and her talent shone as bright as the spotlight.

"Are you crying?" A girl from Ravenclaw asked her Durmstrang partner.

"No." The Bulgarian lied, wiping the tears filling his eyes.

_**We are beautiful** _

_**No matter what they say** _

_**Yes words won't bring us down** _

_**We are beautiful** _

_**In every single way** _

_**Yes words can't bring us down** _

_**Oh no** _

_**So don't you bring me down today** _

_**Oh, oh** _

Fleur was smiling at the American praising herself for knowing Tess could do it.

_**Don't you bring me down today** _

_**Don't you bring me down, ooh** _

_**Today** _

Everyone rose and clapped for her, roaring with cheer. Bagman was wiping his tears Even Snape was mildly impressed. The rest of the Golden Quartet were yelling, "Go Tess!" And along with the rest of the champions.

"Ladies and Gents." said Tess into the microphone. "My name is Tess Crosswell, and I'm telling you now, get on the dance floor!"

Everyone scrambled on the dance floor as the next song started playing.

_**Any way you want it** _

_**That's the way you need it** _

_**Anyway you want it** _

Everyone forgot the traditional dance and started enjoying themselves to the beat of the uplifting song.

_**She loves to laugh** _

_**She loves to sing** _

_**She does everything** _

_**She loves to move** _

_**She loves to groove** _

_**She loves the lovin' things** _

_**It won't be long, yeah, 'til you're alone** _

_**When your lover (lover)** _

_**Oh, he hasn't come home** _

_**'Cause he's lovin (lovin)** _

_**ooh he's touchin' (touchin)** _

_**he's squeezin' another (another)** _

_**Any way you want it** _

_**That's the way you need it** _

_**(she said) any way you want it** _

_**Thats the way you need it** _

_**Any way you want it** _

_**(na na-na na naaa ...)** _

Pansy Parkinson tried her best to try to get Draco to dance with her but Draco kept refusing her.

_**I was alone** _

_**I never knew** _

_**What good love could do** _

_**Then we touched** _

_**Then we sang** _

_**About the lovely things** _

_**'Cause he's lovin (lovin)** _

_**ooh he's touchin' (touchin)** _

_**he's squeezin' another (another)** _

_**anyway you want it** _

_**That's the way you need it** _

_**anyway you want it** _

_**(she said) anyway you want it** _

_**That's the way you need it** _

_**anyway you want it** _

_**(na na-na na naaa ...)** _

There was a guitar and Tess started to dance a little, but she was snapping her fingers and moving to the rhythm, and by then, even the teachers were enjoying themselves.

_**Anyway you want it** _

_**That's the way you need it** _

And the song ended with everyone cheering for a bit as the opening beats for Don't Stop Believing sounded in the Great Hall.

**(A.N, also from Glee's version. In fact, pretty much all of these songs except for the Disney special are Glee's version.)**

_**Just a small town girl** _

_**Livin' in a lonely world** _

_**She took the midnight train goin' anywhere** _

_**Just a city boy** _

_**Born and raised in South Detroit** _

_**He took the midnight train goin' anywhere** _

Tess raised her hand as if grabbing something and pulled it down, synchronized with the beat.

_**A singer in a smokey room** _

_**The smell of wine and cheap perfume** _

_**For a smile they can share the night** _

_**It goes on and on and on and on** _

At one point, Harry had bumped into Ginny and spun her around for fun before they went back to their dance partners.

_**Strangers waiting** _

_**Up and down the boulevard** _

_**Their shadows searchin' in the night** _

_**Streetlight, people** _

_**Livin' just to find emotion** _

_**Hidin' somewhere in the night** _

At that point in the song the guitar solo played and by then, everyone in the room was drunk with jubilance.

_**Don't stop believin'** _

_**Hold on to that feelin'** _

_**Streetlight, people** _

_**Don't stop!** _

Everyone cheered, more louder and more energized than ever. It was as if the song itself gave even Ron some amount of joy dancing in his hideous robes.

Then, a slow beat came and everyone got in pairs and started dancing. Even Draco had to dance with Pansy because he couldn't look like a fool. Tess had saw this, and although she was a little mad, she understood why. She decided to put it out of her mind as she sang the Disney song she chose.

_**Tale as old as time** _

_**True as it can be** _

_**Barely even friends** _

_**Then somebody bends** _

_**Unexpectedly** _

While Draco was dancing with the last person he wanted to see, he wished that Tess was the one in his arms, and not clinging onto him like he was life support like Pansy was.

_**Just a little change** _

_**Small to say the least** _

_**Both a little scared** _

_**Neither one prepared** _

_**Beauty and the Beast** _

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances at one point, Ron's was full of loathe while Hermione's was of pity.

_**Ever just the same** _

_**Ever a surprise** _

_**Ever as before** _

_**Ever just as sure** _

_**As the sun will rise** _

_**Oh oh oh ooh** _

The instrumental interlude played and while Tess enjoyed singing, she wished she could be dancing with someone, and have that magical moment with someone. She was never much for a Cinderella moment, but then she wanted it, at least to get out of her old shell.

_**Ever just the same** _

_**Ever a surprise** _

_**Ever as before** _

_**Ever just as sure** _

_**As the sun will rise** _

_**Oh oh oh** _

_**Tale as old as time** _

_**Tune as old as song** _

_**Bitter sweet and strange** _

_**Finding you can change** _

_**Learning you were wrong** _

_**Certain as the sun** _

_**Rising in the east** _

_**Tale as old as time** _

_**Song as old as rhyme** _

_**Beauty and the Beast** _

_**Tale as old as time** _

_**Song as old as rhyme** _

_**Beauty and the beast** _

Everyone applauded as another dance beat, one that seemed to give everyone confidence to get out there and dance their hearts out.

_**This is the end** _

_**You made your choice and now my chance is over** _

_**I thought I was in** _

_**You put me down and say I'm goin' nowhere** _

_**Save me darlin'** _

_**I am down but I am far from over** _

_**Give me somethin'** _

_**I need it all 'cause I am runnin' over** _

_**Back in the race** _

_**I'm movin' in 'cause I am getting closer** _

_**I'm diggin' in** _

_**I want it more than anything I've wanted** _

The rock and roll instrumental played and by then, all the champions realized that not only was Tess speaking about herself, she was singing for all the champions who were also far from over. Harry knew through this song that he could probably survive the experience of the next two tasks, if he could work out what that egg was.

_**Save me darlin'** _

_**I am down but I am far from over** _

_**Give me somethin'** _

_**I need it all 'cause I am runnin' over** _

_**Save me darlin'** _

_**I am down but I am far from over** _

_**Give me somethin'** _

_**I need it all 'cause I am runnin' over** _

_**I'm runnin' over** _

_**I'm runnin' over** _

There was a long round of applause as Tess bowed and got off to join her friends. By then, Malfoy had left Pansy who had to be taken out by her friends because she was throwing a fit.

"That was amazing!"

"That was the most incredible experience of my life!"

"What songs were those?"

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry, who had been so interested in watching Tess that he had almost forgotten what was coming.

"Nice socks. Potter," Moody growled as he passed, his magical eye staring through Harry's robes.

"Oh - yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me," said Harry, grinning.

"Nice voice Crosswell." said Moody smiling at her.

"He is so creepy!" Parvati whispered as Moody clunked away. "I don't think that eye should be allowed."

"Let's sit down, shall we?"

"Oh - but - this is a really good one!" Parvati said as the Weird Sisters struck up a song, which was much faster.

"No, I don't like it," Harry lied, and he led her away from the dance floor, past Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury, and over to the table where Ron and Padma were sitting.

"How's it going?" Harry asked Ron, sitting down and opening a bottle of butterbeer.

"Hey guys." said Tess.

"Nice." said Ron.

"Nice?" Padma asked in dissapointment. "She was amazing!"

Tess had turned the color of her dress, and shrank in the chair she was sitting.

Ron didn't answer. He was glaring at Hermione and Krum, who were dancing nearby. Padma was sitting with her arms and legs crossed, one foot jiggling in time to the music. Every now and then she threw a disgruntled look at Ron, who was completely ignoring her. Parvati sat down on Harry's other side, crossed her arms and legs too, and within minutes was asked to dance by a boy from Beauxbatons.

"You don't mind, do you, Harry?" Parvati said.

"What?" said Harry, who was now watching Cho and Cedric.

"Oh never mind," snapped Parvati, and she went off with the boy from Beauxbatons. When the song ended, she did not return.

"Hey." said Malfoy. "Tess you were amazing! Care to dance?"

The other boys just gave him dirty looks while Tess went off to dance with the Malfoy boy.

Hermione came over and sat down in Parvati's empty chair. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing.

"Hi," said Harry. Ron didn't say anything.

"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks. Care to join us?"

Ron gave her a withering look. "Viktor?" he said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "What's up with you?" she said.

"If you don't know," said Ron scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged.

"Ron, what -?"

"He's from Durmstrang!" spat Ron. "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You - you're -" Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione's crime, "fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!"

Hermione's mouth fell open.

"Don't be so stupid!" she said after a moment. "The enemy! Honestly - who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?"

Ron chose to ignore this. "I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"

"Yes, he did," said Hermione, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. "So what?"

"What happened - trying to get him to join SPEW, were you?"

"No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he - he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!"

Hermione said this very quickly, and blushed so deeply that she was the same color as Parvati's robes.

"Yeah, well - that's his story," said Ron nastily.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with...He's just trying to get closer to Harry - get inside information on him - or get near enough to jinx him -"

Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. When she spoke, her voice quivered.

"For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry, not one -"

Ron changed tack at the speed of light.

"Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cozy little library sessions -"

"I'd never help him work out that egg!" said Hermione, looking outraged. "Never. How could you say something like that - I want Harry to win the tournament. Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?"

"You've got a funny way of showing it," sneered Ron.

"This whole tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" said Hermione hotly.

"No it isn't!" shouted Ron. "It's about winning!"

People were starting to stare at them.

"You're such a hypocrite!" Hermione said annoyed. "Look at Tess and Malfoy! Do you complain about them? No!"

"Because goes to our school!" said Ron.

"Ron," said Harry quietly, "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum -"

But Ron ignored Harry too.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are," said Ron.

"Don't call him Vicky!"

Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. Ron watched her go with a mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.

"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" Padma asked him.

"No," said Ron, still glaring after Hermione.

"Fine," snapped Padma, and she got up and went to join Parvati and the Beauxbatons boy, who conjured up one of his friends to join them so fast that Harry could have sworn he had zoomed him there by a Summoning Charm.

"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" said a voice.

Krum had just arrived at their table clutching two butterbeers.

"No idea," said Ron mulishly, looking up at him. "Lost her, have you?"

Krum was looking surly again.

"Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks," he said, and he slouched off.

"Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?"

Percy had bustled over, rubbing his hands together and looking extremely pompous. "Excellent! That's the whole point, you know - international magical cooperation!"

To Harry's displeasure, Percy now took Padma's vacated seat. The top table was now empty; Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout, Ludo Bagman with Professor McGonagall; Madame Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students, and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded once more, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall's hand and make his way back through the crowds, at which point Fred and George accosted him.

"What do they think they're doing, annoying senior Ministry members?" Percy hissed, watching Fred and George suspiciously. "No respect..."

Ludo Bagman shook off Fred and George fairly quickly, however, and, spotting Harry, waved and came over to their table.

"I hope my brothers weren't bothering you, Mr. Bagman?" said Percy at once.

"What? Oh not at all, not at all!" said Bagman. "No, they were just telling me a bit more about those fake wands of theirs. Wondering if I could advise them on the marketing. I've promised to put them in touch with a couple of contacts of mine at Zonko's Joke Shop..."

Percy didn't look happy about this at all, and Harry was prepared to bet he would be rushing to tell Mrs. Weasley about this the moment he got home. Apparently Fred and George's plans had grown even more ambitious lately, if they were hoping to sell to the public. Bagman opened his mouth to ask Harry something, but Percy diverted him.

"How do you feel the tournament's going, Mr. Bagman? Our department's quite satisfied - the hitch with the Goblet of Fire" - he glanced at Harry - "was a little unfortunate, of course, but it seems to have gone very smoothly since, don't you think?"

"Oh yes," Bagman said cheerfully, "it's all been enormous fun. How's old Barty doing? Shame he couldn't come."

"Oh I'm sure Mr. Crouch will be up and about in no time," said Percy importantly, "but in the meantime, I'm more than willing to take up the slack. Of course, it's not all attending balls" - he laughed airily - "oh no, I've had to deal with all sorts of things that have cropped up in his absence - you heard Ali Bashir was caught smuggling a consignment of flying carpets into the country? And then we've been trying to persuade the Transylvanians to sign the International Ban on Dueling. I've got a meeting with their Head of Magical Cooperation in the new year -"

"Let's go for a walk," Ron muttered to Harry, "get away from Percy..."

Pretending they wanted more drinks. Harry and Ron left the table, edged around the dance floor, and slipped out into the entrance hall. The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes; winding, ornamental paths; and large stone statues. Harry could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. He and Ron set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes, but they had gone only a short way when they heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"...don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroffs voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it -"

"Then flee," said Snape's voice curtly. "Flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her. "And what are you two doing?" he added, catching sight of Harry and Ron on the path ahead. Karkaroff, Harry saw, looked slightly discomposed to see them standing there. His hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger.

"We re walking," Ron told Snape shortly. "Not against the law, is it?"

"Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled, and he brushed past them, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after Snape. Harry and Ron continued down the path.

"What's got Karkaroff all worried?" Ron muttered.

"And since when have he and Snape been on first-name terms?"said Harry slowly.

Meanwhile Draco and Tess were dancing to a slow song, the two fourth years united in their arms.

"Are you having fun?" Tess asked her date.

"I'm having the time of my life." Draco replied. They leaned in closer as their lips were getting close to touching but Tess pulled back, smiling mischievously. "Come on." She said, pulling Draco's arm out into the front yard.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, caught up in the moment.

"Somewhere we can be alone." said Tess.

"We are alone." said Draco as they went down the stairs that led to the boathouse

"I mean somewhere where we can be, **more** alone." said Tess, holding her dress and careful not to slip so they just walked fast.

"I like the sound of that." said Draco stopping on a staircase landing that had a great view of the lake glittering like scattered precious gems under the full moon, that bathed over the castle and the falling snow. The Christmas moonlight made their blonde hair look silver and made their night much more festive.

"Merry Christmas Tess." said Draco.

"Merry Christmas to you Draco." Tess replied with content.

They silently swayed to the sound of the music that could be heard distantly. And then, they looked into each other's eyes as no words were needed as they leaned in and a spark ignited as their lips touched and opening their hearts to each other.

Both wizards had never asked for much when it came to Christmas, but that moment, that magical extraordinary moment was the Christmas wish that came true for the both of them.


	43. Chapter 43

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations. Hermione's hair was bushy again; she confessed to Harry that Winona had used liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion on it for the ball, "but it's way too much bother to do every day," she said matter-of-factly, scratching a purring Crookshanks behind the ears. Tess hair remained wavy but it was starting to wear off.

Ron and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Ron and Harry wasted no time in telling Hermione about the conversation they had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, but Hermione didn't seem to find the news that Hagrid was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Ron did.

"Well, I thought he must be," she said, shrugging. "I knew he couldn't be pure giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible...It's the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves...It's just bigotry, isn't it?"

But when Tess found out about what Ron said, mad was putting it mildly when she reacted.

"Ronald Weasley!" She yelled, pinning him against the wall. "How dare you say that, I have never been more absolutely disgusted! In America, in the Muggle community, people with red hair are considered minorities! You wanna know why? Because almost everyone thinks they don't have souls! If I hear you breathe another bigoted sentence, you're dead!"

Ron looked as though he would have liked to reply, but perhaps he didn't want another row, because he contented himself with shaking his head with fear while Tess let him down.

Draco and Tess started seeing each other. Of course this set almost everyone at Hogwarts on edge with the idea of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin together.

It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over - everybody except Harry and Tess, that is, whom were starting (once again) to feel slightly nervous.

The trouble was that February the twenty-fourth looked a lot closer from this side of Christmas, and he still hadn't done anything about working out the clue inside the golden egg. He therefore started taking the egg out of his trunk every time he went up to the dormitory, opening it, and listening intently, hoping that this time it would make some sense. He strained to think what the sound reminded him of, apart from thirty musical saws, but he had never heard anything else like it. He closed the egg, shook it vigorously, and opened it again to see if the sound had changed, but it hadn't. He tried asking the egg questions, shouting over all the wailing, but nothing happened. He even threw the egg across the room - though he hadn't really expected that to help.

Tess took to one day, carrying it with her to classes, and trying some potions on it, but it didn't work. In fact, it ended in incidents that were not worth mentioning. So on that night, she took to sneaking down to the Prefect's bathroom where there was rumored to be a large bath. She needed to relax and take her mind off of the egg at least for half an hour. Far fewer people were allowed in there, so it was much less likely that he would be disturbed.

Tess planned her night carefully, because she had been caught out of bed and out-of-bounds by Filch the caretaker in the middle of the night once before, and had no desire to repeat the experience. The Invisibility Cloak would, of course, be essential, but she figured that she would take the Marauder;s Map, which, next to the cloak, was the most useful aid to rule-breaking either Tess or Harry owned. The map, created by her parents and their friends, showed the whole of Hogwarts, including its many shortcuts and secret passageways and, most important of all, it revealed the people inside the castle as minuscule, labeled dots, moving around the corridors, so that Harry would be forewarned if somebody was approaching the bathroom. Harry had inherited The Invisibility Cloak from his father and Tess inherited the map from her father.

When the time was right, Tess sneaked up to bed, put on her pajamas under her purple bathrobe and crept back downstairs, and, just as she had done on the night when Hagrid had shown her the dragons, waited for the portrait hole to open. This time it was Ron who waited outside to give the Fat Lady the password ("banana fritters").

It was awkward moving with her bathrobe on tonight, because Tess had the heavy egg under one arm and the map held in front of her nose with the other. However, the moonlit corridors were empty and silent, and by checking the map at strategic intervals, Tess was able to ensure that she wouldn't run into anyone she wanted to avoid. When she reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost-looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands, she located the right door, leaned close to it, and muttered the password, "Pine fresh," just as she once gotten from a prefect who owed her a favor.

The door creaked open. Tess slipped inside, bolted the door behind her, and pulled off her bathrobe, looking around.

Her immediate reaction was that it would be worth becoming a prefect just to be able to use this bathroom. It was softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything was made of white marble, including what looked like an empty, rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor. About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pools edges, each with a differently colored Jewel set into its handle. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows; a large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner, and there was a single golden-framed painting on the wall. It featured a blonde mermaid who was fast asleep on a rock, her long hair over her face. It fluttered every time she snored.

Tess moved forward, looking around, her footsteps barely echoing off the walls as she was barefoot as well as only wearing shorts and a tanktop. Nevertheless, she put one of the fluffy towels, the map, and the egg at the side of the swimming-pool-sized bath, then knelt down and turned on a few of the taps.

She could tell at once that they carried different sorts of bubble bath mixed with the water, though it wasn't bubble bath as Tess had ever experienced it. One tap gushed pink and blue bubbles the size of footballs; another poured ice-white foam so thick that Tess thought it would have supported her weight if she'd cared to test it; a third sent heavily perfumed purple clouds hovering over the surface of the water. Tess amused herself for a while turning the taps on and off, particularly enjoying the effect of one whose jet bounced off the surface of the water in large arcs. Then, when the deep pool was full of hot water, foam, and bubbles, which took a very short time considering its size, Tess turned off all the taps, pulled off her pajamas, and bathrobe, and slid into the water.

It was so deep that her feet barely touched the bottom, and she swam some lengths before settling on the shallowest parts of the pool and leaned against the wall.

 _Oh this feels so good._ Tess thought, embracing the heat relaxing her muscles. After relaxing in the pool for what appeared to be a long time, Tess turned her head around to see the egg.

"I must be out of my mind." She said softly, Tess stretched out her arms, lifted the egg in her wet hands, and opened it. The wailing, screeching sound filled the bathroom, echoing and reverberating off the marble walls, but it sounded just as incomprehensible as ever, if not more so with all the echoes. She snapped it shut again, worried that the sound would attract Filch. "Yep, I'm definitely out of my mind."

"I'd try putting it in the water, if I were you."

Tess had nearly jumped out of the pool but covered herself, remembering that she was naked. She looked around and the ghost of a very glum-looking girl sitting in a toilet near the bath. It was Moaning Myrtle, who was usually to be heard sobbing in the S-bend of a toilet three floors below.

"Myrtle!" Tess said in outrage, "I'm - I'm freakin nude and wha-" She calmed herself down, taking a deep breath. "What brings you by?"

"Hello Tess." Myrtle said, floating around. "I just got by through the pipes and I heard the prefect's bath running. I just wanted to see who it was. Besides, long time, no see. I was circling a drain earlier and could swear I saw a bit of Polyjuice Potion. Not being bad again are you? I mean, more than usual."

This was true, because Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione had found Myrtle's out-of-order toilets a convenient place to brew Polyjuice Potion in secret - a forbidden potion that had turned him and Ron into living replicas of Crabbe, Pansy and Goyle for an hour, so that they could sneak into the Slytherin common room.

"Polyjuice Potion?" Tess asked. "Well-se that was two-wait a second, Myrtle did you say, 'put the egg in the water?'"

"Since you're asking" said Myrtle, picking at a spot on her chin in a presidental sort of way. "That's what he did. The tall boy, the handsome one, Cedric."

"Have you been spying on him too?" said Tess indignantly. "What d'you do for your passtime, sneak up here in the evenings to watch the prefects take baths?"

"Sometimes," said Myrtle, rather slyly, "but I've never come out to speak to anyone before. Though I wouldn't mind Harry Potter come here one day."

"I'm honored," said Tess darkly.

Once Tess was back in the water, Myrtle peered through her fingers and said, "Go on, then...open it under the water!"

Tess lowered the egg beneath the foamy surface and opened it...and this time, it did not wail. A gurgling song was coming out of it, a song whose words she couldn't distinguish through the water.

Tess took the deepest breath and ducked under - and now, sitting on the marble bottom of the bubble-filled bath, she heard a chorus of eerie voices singing to her from the open egg in his hands:

_**Come seek us where our voices sound,** _

_**We cannot sing above the ground,** _

_**And while you're searching, ponder this:** _

_**We've taken what you'll sorely miss,** _

_**An hour long you'll have to look,** _

_**And to recover what we took,** _

_**But past an hour- the prospect's black,** _

_**Too late, it's gone, it won't come back** _

Tess let herself float back upward and broke the bubbly surface, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"Hear it?" said Myrtle.

"Yeah...'Come seek us where our voices sound...' and if I need persuading...hang on, I need to listen again..."

She sank back beneath the water. It took three more underwater renditions of the egg's song before Tess had it memorized; then she tredded water for a while, thinking hard, while Myrtle sat and looked elswhere.

"Come seek us where our voices sound." she said slowly. "They sound underwater only….but is it possible they live there, how? We cannot sing above the ground."

"Slow, aren't you?"

He had never seen Moaning Myrtle so smug, apart from the day when a dose of PolyJuice Potion had given Hermione the hairy face and tail of a cat. Tess stared around the bathroom, thinking...if the voices could only be heard underwater, then it made sense for them to belong to underwater creatures.

"Wait." said Tess. "Now living and singing in an aquatic ecosystem. Now there's something. Merpeople. Merpeople **live** underwater, they can **sing** underwater."

Myrtle clapped but no sound came out. "Bravo Tess. Very, very good. It took Cedric ages to riddle that one out. Almost all the bubbles were gone. But Tess, when he took off his shirt," She "barked" and Tess merely rolled her eyes.

"Thats it, isn't it?" said Tess excitedly. "The second task's to go and find what the merpeople in the lake have taken and...and..."

But she suddenly realized what he was saying, and he felt the excitement drain out of him as though someone had just pulled a plug in his stomach. She wasn't a good swimmer; but at least she knew how to not drown. But that lake was very large, and very deep...and merpeople would surely live right at the bottom...

Tess groaned like a zombie coming back from the dead, laying her head back against the pool edge.

"What's the problem now?" Myrtle asked annoyed, floating over her.

"Well since **you're** the one asking." Tess snapped. "I've got rid of one problem, now I have to deal with another; How the hell am I gonna stay underwater for 60 minutes, without drowning?"


	44. Chapter 44

2 days went by and neither Harry or Tess had a clue of what they were going to do when it came to the second task. In the library in a corner, when the task was on the brink of arrival, Tess with her hair all messed up was sleeping on top of a book, with a sliver of drool coming out of her mouth onto the page of the book she was sleeping on. People who passed by looked at her strangely but it wasn't until a certain ex-Auror got her to wake up from her hour long nap.

"CROSSWELL!" He boomed, Tess immediately waking up and falling back from her chair. "Falling asleep with dark forces possibly around the corner? You must maintain CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

"Gee." Tess said sarcastically. "Thanks for the advice."

"What's that you're reading?" Moody asked looking at the cover of Dreadful Denizens of the Deep. "Crosswell, I expected more from you." He shoved it back in her arms.

"Well you **could** help out a little." said Tess. "I'm here trying to figure out how to do this freaking goddamn task. Heck, I'm trying to figure out how to **survive**!"

"Surviving is for cowards." said Moody. "When you're out there, facing the darkest of Dark Wizards, you never count on survival! But one thing we can sometimes count on is our comrades. So you could use some help in fighting.

Tess raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "We have to stay underwater for an hour, so are **you** an Olympic freediver? I don't think so."

"Read this." Moody handed her a book that read, Underwater Underdog Ways. "And remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Tess rolled her eyes and went to read it. By the first half of the book, she came across a page that said on the top, Self Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus.

"A SCUBA diving spell?" Tess whispered. "That's it!"

Meanwhile, Harry was with Ron and Hermione.

"Say the beginning." said Ron. "Again."

"Come seek us where our voices sound." said Harry.

"The Black Lake." said Hermione, grabbing some books. "That's obvious."

"An hour long you'll have to look." Harry said again.

"Again obvious." said Hermione. "This could be potentially problematic."

Harry looked at Hermione like she was stupid, and it was Hermione. "Potentially problematic? When was the last time **you** held your breath underwater for an hour, Hermione?"

"Look Harry." said Hermione. "We can do this, if we stick together we can figure it out."

"Hate to break up this moment." Moody's voice came from a corner. "Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office-not you Potter just Weasley and Granger."

"But sir." said Hermione. "The task is hours away-"

"And I think Potter could do with a good night's sleep." said Moody. "Go, now!"

Both Ron and Hermione left and Moody yelled out to a certain forgetful Gryffindor, "Longbottom! Why don't you help Potter put his books back?"

"You know." said Neville. "If you're interested in plants, you'll be better off with Goshawk's Guide to Herbology. Do you know there's a wizard, in Nepal, who's growing-"

"Neville." Harry said stopping him. "No offense but I really don't care about plants. Now if there's a Tibetan Turnip, that will allow me to breathe underwater for an hour then great. Otherwise-"

"I don't know about a Turnip." said Neville. "But you can always use gillyweed."

By the next morning, everyone was up at ready to witness the next task. Fred and George were handing out slots for bets, families of the champions came, save for the Dursleys of course, and all the champions were preparing themselves. All of them wore jackets and sweatpants over their swimsuits.

"You sure about this Neville?" Harry asked as Neville gave him the gillyweed. "It'll work for an hour?"

"Most likely." Neville answered.

"Most likely?" Harry repeated now worried.

"Well there is some debate among herbologists of the effects with freshwater verses saltwater."

"You're telling me this **now**?" Harry asked almost in outrage. "You must be joking!"

"I'm just trying to help." said Neville.

"Better than Ron and Hermione." said Harry. "Where are they anyway?"

"You seem a little tense Harry." said Neville.

"Do I?" Harry asked tensly.

Meanwhile, on the boats to the three large audience stands that were in the middle of the lake, Tess remembered something. "Where's Shinigami?" Tess asked her cousin. Tess' Japanese friend had gotten the opportunity to visit and see the task since her school was on holiday. But she was nowhere to be found on that morning and she was supposed to meet the Crosswells at the port.

"Haven't seen her since yesterday." said Johnnie.

"Maybe she's gone with someone else." said Sara.

When 9:30 came everyone was cheering. There were cheers for Beauxbatons, some yelling, "Diggory!" the Bulgarians yelling, "Krum! Krum! Krum!" and about a third yelling "Harry! Harry!" and some even took to yelling, "USA! USA!" for Tess.

"Welcome to the second task!" Ludo Bagman's magnified voice echoed. "Last night, something was stolen from our champions. A treasure of sorts. These five treasures, one for each champion, now lie in the bottom of the Black Lake. In order to win, each champion need only to find their treasure and return to the surface. ("Put that in your mouth." said Moody to Harry and he told Tess to point her wand to her throat and recite the spell. ) Simple enough, except for this: They will have but one hour to do so and one hour only." Harry started to feel in pain while Tess ears started to feel under pressure and felt her lungs expanding like a balloon and it was not a pleasant feeling. The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause as the champions dived for it and Harry had to be pushed for it while Tess took a deep breath diving for her life.

It was so cold he felt the skin on his legs searing as though this were fire, not icy water. He grabbed his head as he dived down in pain.

The pressure in Tess ears and head was building and building until it stopped like someone had flipped a switch. Her vision was sharp as the Sword of Gryffindor and she could hear the people talking and the sea animals around her even from feet away. But when she opened her mouth, she immediately closed it after realizing she couldn't breathe from it. But where was this fresh air coming from? She relaxed, feeling the air fill in her chest. _Wait a minute_. She thought to herself, feeling her chest and remembering her lungs expanding and that's when she realized she was breathing on the inside!

_I'm breathing from my lungs? EEEWWWWW!_

Harry clapped his hands around his throat and felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air...He had gills. The first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life. His head had stopped spinning; he took another great gulp of water and felt it pass smoothly through his gills, sending oxygen back to his brain. He stretched out his hands in front of him and stared at them. They looked green and ghostly under the water, and they had become webbed. He twisted around and looked at his bare feet - they had become elongated and the toes were webbed too: It looked as though he had sprouted flippers.

He noticed Tess in her swimsuit designed like the American flag and he gave a thumbs up to her and she gave one back.

" _ **What's going on?"**_ Tess heard Dean ask.

" _ **I don't know I can't see him."**_ She heard Seamus.

" _ **Oh my God!"**_ Neville cried. " _ **I've killed Harry Potter!"**_

Harry propelled himself up and yelled, "YEAH!" while doing a flip.

The water didn't feel icy anymore either...on the contrary, he felt pleasantly cool and very light...Harry struck out once more, marveling at how far and fast his flipper-like feet propelled him through the water, and noticing how clearly he could see, and how he no longer seemed to need to blink. He had soon swum so far into the lake that he could no longer see the bottom. He flipped over and dived into its depths.

Tess still felt the icy cold but she brushed it off as she had bigger fish to fry, so to speak. The feeling from breathing inside her own body was just like air on the surface but it was the strangest sensation Tess had experienced. Using her enhanced hearing, she dove, following the sound of singing. Silence pressed upon her ears as she soared over a strange, dark, landscape with some rock. She could see something not far from her her, so that as her sped through the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the incoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones. She swam deeper and deeper, out toward the middle of the lake, her eyes wide, staring through the eerily gray-lit water around him to the shadow beyond, where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past her like silver darts. Once or twice she thought he saw something larger moving ahead of hers, but when she got nearer, she discovered it to be nothing but a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed. There was no sign of any of the other champions, merpeople, or the giant squid.

Light green weed stretched ahead of her as far as she could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. Tess was staring unblinkingly ahead of her, trying to discern shapes through the gloom, figuring that she could swim over it so she could avoid the unexpected...and then, without warning, something grabbed hold of her ankle.

Tess twisted her body around and saw a grindylow, a small, horned water demon, poking out of the weed, its long fingers clutched tightly around Tess' leg, its pointed fangs bared - Tess stuck her hand quickly inside her wand arm bracer and fumbled for her wand. By the time she had grasped it, two more grindylows had risen out of the weed, had seized both arms Tess, and were attempting to drag her down.

"Relashio!" Tess shouted, except that no sound came out...A large bubble issued from her mouth, and her wand, sending sparks at the grindylows. For where it struck them, angry red patches appeared on their green skin. Tess pulled her ankle out of the grindylows grip and swam, as fast as she could, occasionally sending more jets of hot water over her shoulder at random; every now and then she felt one of the grindylows snatch at her foot again, and she kicked out, hard; finally, she felt her foot connect with a horned skull, and looking back, saw the dazed grindylow floating away, cross-eyed, while its fellows shook their fists at Tess and sank back into the weed.

Tess slowed down a little, slipped her wand back inside her robes, and looked around, listening again. She turned full circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever against her enhanced hearing. She knew she must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing was moving but the rippling weed. So she swam above the forest saw down below a shape moving that had a very large fish tail. She followed it with haste and and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Tess swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

_**"...your time's half gone, so tarry not** _

_**Lest what you seek stays here to rot..."** _

_30 minutes._ Tess thought. _Crap._

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, Tess saw faces...faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom...

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. Tess had then assumed they were freshwater merpeople. They watched Tess as she swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch her better, their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

Tess sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and she even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching her eagerly, and a young mermaid waved at her and Tess returned the gesture. Tess sped around a corner and a very strange sight met her eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Five people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Ron was tied between Hermione and Cho Chang. Shinigami was last in line next to a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. All five of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

Something had tapped Tess on the neck and she looked to see it was Harry who pointed to Ron and Tess pointed to the Asian witch. They nodded at each other and swam off to their hostages to save.

Harry sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong. For a fleeting second he thought of the knife Sirius had bought him for Christmas - locked in his trunk in the castle a quarter of a mile away, no use to him whatsoever.

They looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding them were carrying spears. Personally, Tess wasn't surprised that the merpeople were armed. Harry swam swiftly toward a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear. The merman laughed and shook his head.

"We do not help," he said in a harsh, croaky voice.

"Come ON!" Harry said fiercely (but only bubbles issued from his mouth), and he tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head and laughing.

Tess pulled out her wand but she was slapped by a hostile mermaid who said to her, "No magic allowed."

 _Oh you gotta be shitting me!_ Tess said. She swirled around, staring about. Something sharp...anything...

There were rocks littering the lake bottom. Harry dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one and returned to the statue. He picked up one close to the piece and threw it to Tess. They began to hack at the ropes binding their friends, and after several minutes' hard work, Harry's did the trick but in the end, Tess had to use her teeth to break the rope which worked. Ron floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom, drifting a little in the ebb of the water.

Harry looked around. There was no sign of any of the other champions. What were they playing at? Why didn't they hurry up? He turned around to see Tess who mouthed, "Good luck." at him and he turned back to Hermione.

Tess swam back, Shinigami who was surprisingly light as she carried her. Seeing as she was in a deep aquatic environment she had never been in before, she had to retrace her steps, so to speak.

But it was by the forest of kelp that things took a worse just when Tess thought she might win first place. Something grabbed her legs and just when she was going to push Shinigami up, the other Grindylows seized the unconscious girl and pulled her down. In the blink of an eye, a swarm of Grindylows were on top of Tess, with no escape and she had no time or space to pull out her wand. Tust when she saw Shinigami get dragged down, something inside of Tess burst like liquid boiling to burst from the pot, her eyes glowing purple, she threw her arms down and screamed with bubbles coming out of her mouth. As soon as she reacted this way, a shockwave of energy burst from her body and immobilized all the Grindylows around her.

 _How did I-No time for that Tess, Shinigami needs to get to the surface._ She told herself before swimming to her friend and grabbing her. Kicking while feeling the SCUBA spell wear off with all of her strength, her sight in the water blurring and her enhanced hearing turning into pressure, her lungs getting smaller and the air in her lessening, she just kept going. And then she felt her head break the surface of the lake; wonderful, cold, clear air was making her wet face sting; she gulped it down, feeling as though she had never breathed properly before, and, panting, pulled Shinigami Tomoya with her. All around her, wild, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water with her, but they were smiling at her.

Shinigami instantly waking up and the crowds cheering.

The crowds in the stands was making a great deal of noise; shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet; The other champions except for Harry were there, drying off. Shinigami got up on the platform and helped Tess get out, twenty merpeople accompanying them like a guard of honor, singing their horrible screechy songs.

"Soko, Tomodachi!" She exclaimed, pulling her out.

Tess could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, Cedric, and Cho, all of whom were wrapped in thick towels.

Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Tess. Meanwhile Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?"

"Votre soeur est bien." Tess said. "Harry should be getting-Wait, where's Harry?"

"Tess!" Hermione screamed running towards her. "You're alright are you?"

"Mione I'm fine." said Tess. "Where's Harry?"

"TESS!" Sara screamed hugging her. "Are you ok? No, of course you're not ok, you must be freezing! I should have Pomfery do a check up on you once-"

"Aunt Sara!" Tess exclaimed snapping her out of her babble. "I'm ok. Where's Harry?"

"He hasn't come up." said Sara. "You're the fourth to come out."

"Come on Harry." Tess whispered out into the lake. "Please come back."

After about 5 minutes, her prayers were answered when Harry came out with Ron and Fleur who were coughing and taking in air. Ron was holding Fleur's sister so she could swim well and helped her get out.

Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back in the stands. ("Gerroff, Percy, I'm all right!"); Dumbledore and Bagman were pulling Harry upright; Fleur was hugging her sister.

"It was ze grindylows...zey attacked me...oh Gabrielle, I thought...I thought..."

"Come here, you," said Madam Pomfrey. She seized Harry and pulled him over to Hermione and the others, wrapped him so tightly in a towel that he felt as though he were in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down his throat. Steam gushed out of his ears.

"Harry, well done!" Hermione cried. "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!"

"Well -" said Harry. He would have told her about Dobby, but he had just noticed Karkaroff watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Ron, and Fleur's sister had got back safely. "Yeah, that's right," said Harry, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.

"Harry!" Tess screamed hugging him. "I thought you were a goner."

"I'm alive aren't I?" Harry asked.

"You saved 'er," Fleur said breathlessly to Harry. "Even though she was not your 'ostage. Mon soeur petit. Thank you."

"Yeah," said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he'd left all three girls tied to the statue.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he felt his face burn and wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again), then said to Ron, "And you too-you 'elped -"

"Yeah," said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit -"

Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him.

"Merci." Ron said softly brushing the cheek Fleur kissed. Hermione looked simply furious.

"You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," said Krum. Harry had the impression that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed away the beetle impatiently and said, "You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry...Did it take you ages to find us?"

"No...I found you okay...I finished last."

"Second to last." said Johnnie who had finished fighting the crowds to get down. "Fleur never got past the Grindylows. Dumbledore made sure that if that happened, they would be disqualified from the race and brought out immediately."

Harry's feeling of stupidity was growing. Now he was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear that Dumbledore's safety precautions wouldn't have permitted the death of a hostage just because their champion hadn't turned up. Why hadn't he just grabbed Ron and gone? He would have been first back...Cedric, Tess, and Krum hadn't wasted time worrying about anyone else; they hadn't taken the mersong seriously...

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Tess, Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

"Look after Gabrielle." She said.

Just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Mer Chieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows...

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour." Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Harry saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."

Harry's heart sank. If Cedric had been outside the time limit, he most certainly had been.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"Miss Crosswell here." Bagman continued. "Was the first to reach the hostages, and used a SCUBA spell, a spell no other champion used, but on her way back with her hostage, she was attacked by a swarm of Grindylows and would have sent her hostage up if that hostage was not caught in the crossfire. But Quintessa bravely fought them off and rescued her hostage 3 minutes after the time limit. Even so, she is awarded forty-two points!"

Applause roared and Tess was squished in a hug from her cousin.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Mer chieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was second to reach the hostages, rescued the one Miss Delacour was to rescue, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks. Tess wasn't too surprised knowing Harry's hero complex.

"Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However...Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

Harry's stomach leapt - he was now tying for first place with Cedric. Ron, Tess, and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

"There you go. Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fiber!"

Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

It was over. Harry thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes...it was over, he had got through...he didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth...

"You know Harry." Tess said to Harry when they were on the port. "I'm coming back to this lake someday."

"To do what?" Harry asked. "Visit the merpeople again?"

"Nope." said Tess. "Two words between me and the Giant Squid; Arm Wrestling."


	45. Chapter 45

One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake, which meant that Ron was getting to share Harry's limelight for once. Harry noticed that Ron's version of events changed subtly with every retelling. At first, he gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied with Hermione's story, anyway - Dumbledore had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor McGonagall's office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. One week later, however, Ron was telling a thrilling tale of kidnap in which he struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople who had to beat him into submission before tying him up.

"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," he assured Padma Patil, who seemed to be a lot keener on Ron now that he was getting so much attention and was making a point of talking to him every time they passed in the corridors. "I could've taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted."

"What were you going to do, snore at them?" said Hermione waspishly. People had been teasing her so much about being the thing that Viktor Krum would most miss that she was in a rather tetchy mood.

Ron's ears went red, and thereafter, he reverted to the bewitched sleep version of events.

As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. The brown owl that Harry had sent to Sirius with the dates of the Hogsmeade weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius's reply than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again.

Sirius's letter was almost as short as the previous one.

Be at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.

"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" said Ron incredulously.

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Hermione.

"Well he's a fugitive." said Tess. "He's worth a reward and trust me, if anyone sees him, they'll be calling the Ministry faster than he can say, "Crap."

"I can't believe him," said Harry tensely, "if he's caught..."

"Made it so far, though, hasn't he?" said Ron. "And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore."

Harry folded up the letter, thinking. If he was honest with himself, he really wanted to see Sirius again. And he knew that Tess wanted more than anything, to see her father. He therefore approached the final lesson of the afternoon - double Potions - feeling considerably more cheerful than he usually did when descending the steps to the dungeons.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Harry couldn't see and sniggering heartily. Pansys pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's broad back as Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione approached.

"There they are, there they are!" she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. Harry saw that Pansy had a magazine in her hands - Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside.

Hermione, Harry, Tess, and Ron headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of todays potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily rifled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what they were looking for. Harry and Ron leaned in closer. A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:

Harry Potter's Secret Heartache

A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potters well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.

But will Harry Potter move on with American-British witch Tess Crosswell? It would not be likely since Crosswell and Malfoy heir, Draco Malfoy were seen together in a romantic moment that has more details in the next page.

"I told you!" Ron hissed at Hermione as she stared down at the article. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of- of scarlet woman!"

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at Ron.

"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, his ears going red.

"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."

Harry threw Tess a suspicious look and Tess shrugged.

Hermione looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Harry, and Ron started unpacking the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.

"Tess." Draco said sitting next to her.

"You seem a little out of it." said Tess. "You ok?"

"Embaressed yes." He said, pulling out a Witch Weekly.

"Didn't know you liked those." Tess muttered sarcastically.

"I don't." Draco snapped. "Crabbe and Goyle have been bugging me all day and when they showed me this article, I understood why."

"Lemme see that." Tess said, opening to the article Rita wrote about her and Draco and it only took her reading the second paragraph to make her mad.

"I swear." Tess said angrily ripping the magazine apart. "When I get my hands on that motherfucking bitch, I'm gonna do more than just burn her quill."

"Whoa Tess." said Draco holding her on the shoulder. "Calm dow- you what? Oh Tess." He ran his fingers through his growing blonde hair. "Why is it you must make enemies in the worst way possible."

Tess shrugged smiling. "Cause it's fun?"

Draco just rolled his eyes and tried not to make a comment on it.

"There's something funny, though," said Hermione to Ron. Ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"

"Known what?" said Ron quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just...how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"

Hermione blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes.

"What?" said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.

"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake."

Hermione muttered. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -"

"And what did you say?" said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione.

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, going so red now that Harry could almost feel the heat coming from her, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there...or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task..."

"And what did you say?" Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to -"

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is. Miss Granger," said an icy voice right behind them, and all three of them jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Malfoy took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry while Tess hit him lightly on the arm for doing so.

"Ah...reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor...oh but of course..." Snape's black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings...even though **he's** not the one featured." Tess merely tossed her hair back, knowing she could take on anything Rita dished out on her. "Crosswell, what misery have you created now?"

"What misery?" Tess asked 'innocently'. "All I'm doing is spreading love and being totes innocent about it."

Some of the Gryffindors sniggered while Harry just pinched the bridge of his nose. If there was anything Tess had a bad reputation for, it was her ability to not give up on getting in trouble with Snape.

 _Innocent?_ Hermione thought. _Innocent, my ass. Oh great, now she's got_ _me_ _swearing!"_

Snape looked ready to give Tess the punishment of her life and said, "You're many things American. But innocent is not one of them. And what is this? It seems your troublemaking nature has drawn Mr. Malfoy and is now bringing him down."

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth as both Draco and Tess started to whiten at the thought of anything Rita got on them. To Harry's fury, as he knew what the article contained, he began to read the article aloud.

"'Hogwarts School's Secret Romance...dear, dear. Teenagers, what's ailing you now? 'A pair like no other, perhaps, roaming the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Both from opposing Houses, both from different social classes and both with different bloodlines. So one might ask themselves, why, why out of all people would they find each other? Why wait until this year during the Triwizard Tournament, would they find their soul inside one another? Well frankly, I can only come up with a single answer and it's a relationship based on ulterior motives.'"

Both Tess and Harry could feel their faces burning, even though Draco tried to look professional. Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape. Even Tess was blushing scarlet now and ready to faint.

"It takes chutzpah to be willing to push the boundaries and make love your own. Draco Malfoy clearly seeks Quintessa for her fame and she seeks the one thing from him, money. But when I interviewed some of the people who were witnesses to Quintessaco, I felt something bloom that was deeper.

' "I saw Malfoy and Tess leave the Yule Ball that night, they were holding hands." from Lavender Brown.' Said witch was sinking in her seat, ashamed. '"You should have seen them, they were sunken in the waters of love." Could this be the real life Romeo and Juliet blossoming before our eyes? Maybe so, but I just hope that no one saw me wipe my tears at their timeless kiss under the moonlight at the Yule Ball."' At this point, everyone was either sniggering or just gaping with shock.

"'...Quintessa's well-wishers must hope that, next time, Draco bestows his heart upon her and treats her like a queen.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the five of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. You too, Mr. Malfoy, Zambini, move to his table. Miss Crosswell, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Miss Granger, with Miss Patil. Potter - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Furious, Tess threw her bag onto her back and dragged it up to Pansy's table. Snape sat down at his desk and watched Harry unload his cauldron. Determined not to look at Pansy who was teasing her, Tess resumed the mashing of his scarab beetles, imagining each one to have Rita's face.

"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already over-large ugly head. Crosswell," said Pansy quietly, once the rest of the class had settled down again. "You think you can waltz around with Drakey Poo while he's supposed to be with me?"

Tess didn't answer. She knew Parkinson was trying to provoke her; she had done this before. No doubt she was hoping for an excuse to get her in detention before the end of the class.

"You might be laboring under the delusion that he's going to stay with you." Pansy went on, so quietly that no one else could hear her (Tess continued to pound her scarab beetles, even though she had already reduced them to a very fine powder), "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. Crossbrat, you are nothing but a nasty little girl who considers everything to be beneath her."

Tess tipped the powdered beetles into her cauldron and started cutting up his ginger roots. Her hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but she kept her eyes down, even as they flickered glowing, as though she couldn't hear what Pansy was saying to her.

"See, I've always had this feeling that I'm a Seer." Pansy continued to taunt. "And I don't think you and Drakey Poo are going to last long. See, why would he wait around to steal 10 minutes with **you** when he can have me anytime he wants?"

Tess at that moment, was about to kick Pansy back when there was an angry knock at the door.

"Enter," said Snape in his usual voice.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist. Harry kept his eyes on his ginger roots, listening hard.

"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff," Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.

"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."

"After the lesson," Snape snapped.

Under the pretext of holding up a measuring cup to see if he'd poured out enough armadillo bile, Harry sneaked a sidelong glance at the pair of them. Karkaroff looked extremely worried, and Snape looked angry.

Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class. Keen to hear what Karkaroff wanted to say, Harry deliberately knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, which gave him an excuse to duck down behind his cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily toward the door.

"What's so urgent?" he heard Snape hiss at Karkaroff.

"This," said Karkaroff, and Harry, peering around the edge of his cauldron, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.

"Well?" said Karkaroff, still making every effort not to move his lips. "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since -"

"Put it away!" snarled Snape, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.

"But you must have noticed -" Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.

"We can talk later, Karkaroff!" spat Snape. "Potter! What are you doing?"

"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," said Harry innocently, straightening up and showing Snape the sodden rag he was holding.

Karkaroff turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an exceptionally angry Snape, Harry threw his books and ingredients back into his bag and left at top speed to tell Ron, Tess, and Hermione what he had just witnessed.

They left the castle at noon the next day to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time they arrived in Hogsmeade, all four of them had taken off their cloaks and thrown them over their shoulders. The food Sirius had told them to bring was in Harry's bag; they had sneaked a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, a bag of chips/fries, courtesy of Tess, and a flask of pumpkin juice from the lunch table.

Harry had never been in this direction before. The winding lane was leading them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; they were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for them, its front paws on the topmost bar, was a very large, shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspapers in its mouth and looking very familiar...

"Hi Dad," said Tess when they had reached him.

The black dog sniffed Harry's bag eagerly, wagged its tail once, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione climbed over the stile and followed.

Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paws, but Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione were soon out of breath. They followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep, winding, and stony path, following Sirius's wagging tail, sweating in the sun, the shoulder straps of Harry's bag cutting into his shoulders.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place where he had vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. They squeezed into it and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the hippogriff. Half gray horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of them. All four of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees and allowed Hermione and Tess to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck. Harry, however, was looking at the black dog, which had just turned into his godfather and Tess who was looking at her father.

Sirius was wearing ragged gray robes; the same ones he had been wearing when he had left Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin.

"Chicken!" he said hoarsely after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor.

Harry pulled open his bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread.

"Thanks," said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself."

He grinned up at Harry, but Harry returned the grin only reluctantly.

"I missed you Daddy!" Tess said hugging him. "Why didn't you come back? I wrote a letter to you!"

"Well Pup." said Sirius to his daughter. "The last thing I needed was the Ministry constantly raiding the house if they found out I was living there. It would create unease. Besides, someone has to keep a watch on you two Mini Marauders."

"We're not **that** mini!" Tess exclaimed in mock horror.

"Don't worry about me, I'm pretending to be a lovable stray."

He was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Harry's face, said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter...well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked them up and unfolded them. Harry, however, continued to stare at Sirius.

"What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"

"You four, the Crosswells and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," said Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to devour the chicken leg. "Although I still have to talk to you about boys, particularly the one you're seeing."

Ron nudged Harry and passed him the Daily Prophets. There were two: The first bore the headline Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch, the second, Ministry Witch Still Missing - Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved.

Harry scanned the story about Crouch. Phrases jumped out at him: hasn't been seen in public since November...house appears deserted...St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries declined comment...Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness...

"They're making it sound like he's dying," said Harry slowly. "But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here..."

"My brothers Crouch's personal assistant," Ron informed Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," said Harry slowly, still reading the story. "The night my name came out of the goblet..."

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" said Hermione, an edge to her voice. She was stroking Buckbeak, who was crunching up Sirius's chicken bones. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now - bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."

"Hermione's obsessed with them house-elvs," Tess muttered to her father, casting Hermione a dark look. Sirius, however, looked interested.

"Crouch sacked his house-elf?"

"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," said Harry, and he launched into the story of the Dark Mark's appearance, and Winky being found with Harry's wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch's fury. When Harry had finished, Sirius was on his feet again and had started pacing up and down the cave.

"Let me get this straight," he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much." said Tess.

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," said Harry. "I think he said he'd been too busy."

"Too busy with other business maybe." said Tess.

Sirius paced all around the cave in silence. Then he said, "Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"Erm..." Harry thought hard. "No," he said finally. "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." He stared at Sirius. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible," said Sirius.

"Winky didn't steal that wand!" Hermione insisted.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box." said Tess, her dad's brow furrowed as he continued to pace.

"Who else was sitting behind you?" Sirius asked.

"Loads of people," said Harry. "Some Bulgarian ministers...Cornelius Fudge...the Malfoys..."

"The Malfoys!" said Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak tossed his head nervously. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy! See Tess, he's a bad seed!"

"Anyone else?" said Sirius.

"No one," said Harry.

"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Hermione reminded him.

"Oh yeah..."

"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," said Sirius, still pacing. "What's he like?"

"He's okay," said Harry. "He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does he, now?" said Sirius, frowning more deeply. "I wonder why he'd do that?"

"Says he's taken a liking to me," said Harry.

"Yeah a bit too much for my taste." said Tess.

"Hmm," said Sirius, looking thoughtful. "Quintessa, you just may have a point."

"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared," Hermione told Sirius. "Remember?" she said to Harry and Ron.

"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" said Ron. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."

"How d'you know?" Hermione shot back. "How d'you know where he Disapparated to?"

"Come on." said Tess incredulously. "Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"

"It's more likely he did it than Winky," said Hermione stubbornly.

"Like Tess said." said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, "told you she's obsessed with house -"

But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron.

"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," said Harry, "but there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course," Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, "of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf...and then he sacked her?"

"Yes," said Hermione in a heated voice, "he sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled -"

"Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!" said Ron.

Sirius shook his head and said, "She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.

"All these absences of Barty Crouch's...he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too...It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak." Said Hippogriff gave an exasperated grunt. "No offense."

"D'you know Crouch, then?" said Harry.

Sirius's face darkened. He suddenly looked as menacing as he had the night when Harry first met him, the night when Harry Tess or Johnnie, still believed Sirius to be a murderer.

"Oh I know Crouch all right," he said quietly. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."

"What?" said Ron and Hermione together.

"No frigging way!" Tess exclaimed.

"You're kidding!" said Harry.

"No, I'm not," said Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken. "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione shook their heads.

"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," said Sirius. "He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter," he said, reading the look on Harry's face. "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side...well, you wouldn't understand...you're too young..."

"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Try us, why don't you?"

A grin flashed across Sirius's thin face.

"All right, I'll try you..." He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing...the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere...panic...confusion...that's how it used to be.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened..." Sirius smiled grimly. "Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."

"Crouch's son was caught?" gasped Hermione.

"Yep," said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. "Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in awhile...gotten to know his own son."

He began to wolf down large pieces of bread and Tess could see the dark parallel for the relationship between Crouch and his son and her own relationship in the past years with her father.

"Was his son a Death Eater?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Sirius, still stuffing down bread. "I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters - but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf."

"Did Crouch try and get his son off?" Hermione whispered.

Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.

"Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy...then he sent him straight to Azkaban."

"He gave his own son to the dementors?" asked Harry quietly.

"This is making me sick." Ron muttered.

"That's right," said Sirius, and he didn't look remotely amused now. "I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though...they all went quiet in the end...except when they shrieked in their sleep..."

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius's eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

"So he's still in Azkaban?" Harry said.

"No," said Sirius dully. "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."

"He died?" Ron asked.

"Didn't last long on his accord." said Tess.

"He wasn't the only one." said Sirius bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it."

Sirius threw aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth and instead picked up the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it.

"So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic...next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

There was a long silence. Harry was thinking of the way Crouch's eyes had bulged as he'd looked down at his disobedient house-elf back in the wood at the Quidditch World Cup. This, then, must have been why Crouch had overreacted to Winky being found beneath the Dark Mark. It had brought back memories of his son, and the old scandal, and his fall from grace at the Ministry.

"So to sum it up Ol' Barty Crouch is a big-time hypocrite?" Tess asked.

"He cared about his reputation more rather than making Dark Wizards seem like criminals needed to be put down." said Sirius, now eating his bread. "But basically, yes."

"Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," Harry told Sirius.

"Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him," said Sirius, nodding. "If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater."

"I met Moody about 3 years ago." said Tess. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Moody's getting more paranoid than ever."

"And then he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!" said Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.

"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," said Sirius.

"Yeah, it does!" said Ron excitedly, but Sirius shook his head.

"Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him."

"So you think Snape could be up to something, then?" asked Harry, but Hermione broke in.

"Didn't we have this conversation about 3 years ago?" Tess asked.

"Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape -"

"Oh give it a rest, Hermione," said Ron impatiently. "I know Dumbledore's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him -"

"Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?"

"What happened?" Sirius asked now alert.

"Long story." Ron said before turning back to Hermione. "I dunno - maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out-"

"What d'you think, Sirius?" Harry said loudly, and Ron and Hermione stopped bickering to listen.

"I think they've both got a point," said Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Ron and Hermione. "Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was," Sirius added, and Harry, Tess, and Ron grinned at each other. "Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters."

Sirius held up his fingers and began ticking off names.

"Rosier and Wilkes - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges - they're a married couple - they're in Azkaban. Avery - from what I've heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - he's still at large. There were the **Malfoy's** of course, Tess. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater - not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble."

"Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet," said Ron.

"Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!" said Harry quickly. "Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was."

He showed Snape something on his arm?" said Sirius, looking frankly bewildered. He ran his fingers distractedly through his filthy hair, then shrugged again. "Well, I've no idea what that's about...but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers..."

Sirius stared at the cave wall, then made a grimace of frustration.

"There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort."

"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape's office then?" said Ron stubbornly.

"Well something's in there that they want." said Tess.

"Well," said Sirius slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though...he's a different matter...is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not...what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"

Sirius lapsed into silence, still staring at the cave wall. Buckbeak was ferreting around on the rocky floor, looking for bones he might have overlooked. Finally, Sirius looked up at Ron.

"You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?"

"I can try," said Ron doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch."

"And 'he means worship like Jesus' love." added Tess

"You might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," said Sirius to Ron, gesturing to the second copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Bagman told me they hadn't," said Harry.

"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," said Sirius, nodding at the paper. "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic...maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long..."

Sirius heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes.

"What's the time?"

Harry checked his watch, then remembered it hadn't been working since it had spent over an hour in the lake.

"It's half past three," said Hermione.

"You'd better get back to school," Sirius said, getting to his feet. "Now listen..." He looked particularly hard at Harry and Tess. "I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, allright? Especially you Quintessa. Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."

"No one's tried to attack me or Tess so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows," Harry said, but Sirius scowled at them.

"I don't care...I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"

He handed Harry the empty napkin and flask and went to pat Buckbeak good-bye. "I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Sirius, "see if I can scrounge another paper. Oh and Quintessa, take your time and good luck."

He transformed into the great black dog before they left the cave, and they walked back down the mountainside with him, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. Here he allowed each of them to pat him on the head, before turning and setting off at a run around the outskirts of the village. Tess knew what her father meant by taking her time and wishing her luck. The Quartet made their way back into Hogsmeade and up toward Hogwarts.

"Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?" Ron said as they walked up the drive to the castle. "But maybe he doesn't care...It'd probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy loves rules. He'd just say Crouch was refusing to break them for his own son."

"Percy would never throw any of his family to the dementors," said Hermione severely.

"I don't know," said Ron. "If he thought we were standing in the way of his career...Percy's really ambitious, you know..."

"Yeah and ambition is a pretty dangerous two-way street." said Tess.

They walked up the stone steps into the entrance hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted toward them from the Great Hall.

"Poor old Snuffles," said Ron, breathing deeply. "He must really like you. Harry...Imagine having to live off rats."

"He's already had to deal with another rat and the biggest one of all." said Tess bitterly. "Speaking of which, and not that I care, what do you think happened to Wormtail?"


	46. Chapter 46

The Golden Quartet went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Percy, asking, as Sirius had suggested, whether he had seen Mr. Crouch lately. They used Hedwig, because it had been so long since she'd had a job. Then they went down to the kitchens to ask a certain house elf some questions.

The house-elves gave them a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtsying and bustling around making tea again. Dobby was ecstatic about his friend coming to see him.

"Harry Potter is too good to Dobby!" he squeaked, wiping large tears out of his enormous eyes.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company but I'm here to see someone else." said Harry.

"Dobby understands." said Dobby. "But Harry Potter is always welcome here as are his friends!"

"No chance of more of those eclairs, is there?" said Ron, who was looking around at the beaming and bowing house-elves.

"You've just had breakfast!" said Hermione irritably, but a great silver platter of eclairs was already zooming toward them, supported by four elves.

"I like chocolate." Tess said and a plate of eclairs came in her hands.

"Not you too!" Hermione said annoyed.

"You of all people should understand that when my crimson tide is in." said Tess, munching her chocolate. "A woman at that time will not be defied her chocolate."

The boys looked at the girls strangely although Harry, remembering his awkward talk with Johnnie last year, got some meaning at the words, "crimson tide."

"We should get some stuff to send up to Snuffles," Harry muttered shaking off his disgust.

"Good idea," said Ron. "Give Pig something to do. You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?" he said to the surrounding elves, and they bowed delightedly and hurried off to get some more.

"Dobby, where's Winky?" said Tess, who was looking around.

"Winky is over there by the fire, miss," said Dobby quietly, his ears drooping slightly.

"Oh dear," said Hermione as she spotted Winky.

Harry looked over at the fireplace too. Winky was sitting on the same stool as last time, but she had allowed herself to become so filthy that she was not immediately distinguishable from the smoke-blackened brick behind her. Her clothes were ragged and unwashed. She was clutching a bottle of butterbeer and swaying slightly on her stool, staring into the fire. As they watched her, she gave an enormous hiccup.

"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dobby whispered to Harry.

"Well, it's not strong, that stuff," Harry said.

But Dobby shook his head. "'Tis strong for a house-elf, sir," he said.

"Great." Tess muttered. "We have an alcoholic for an interrogatee."

Winky hiccuped again. The elves who had brought the eclairs gave her disapproving looks as they returned to work.

"Winky is pining, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered sadly. "Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, sir, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."

"Hey, Winky," said Harry, struck by a sudden inspiration, walking over to her, and bending down, "you don't know what Mr. Crouch might be up to, do you? Because he's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament."

Winky's eyes flickered. Her enormous pupils focused on Harry. She swayed slightly again and then said, "M - Master is stopped - hic - coming?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "we haven't seen him since the first task. The Daily Prophet's saying he's ill."

Winky swayed some more, staring blurrily at Harry.

"Master - hic - ill?"

Her bottom lip began to tremble.

"But we're not sure if that's true," said Tess quickly.

"Master is needing his - hic - Winky!" whimpered the elf. "Master cannot - hic - manage - hic - all by himself..."

"Other people manage to do their own housework, you know, Winky," Hermione said severely.

"Winky - hic - is not only - hic - doing housework for Mr. Crouch!" Winky squeaked indignantly, swaying worse than ever and slopping butterbeer down her already heavily stained blouse. "Master is - hic - trusting Winky with - hic - the most important - hic - the most secret..."

"What?" said Harry.

But Winky shook her head very hard, spilling more butterbeer down herself.

"Winky keeps - hic - her master's secrets," she said mutinously, swaying very heavily now, frowning up at Harry with her eyes crossed. "You is - hic - nosing, you is."

"Winky must not talk like that to Harry Potter!" said Dobby angrily. "Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter is not nosy!"

"He is nosing - hic - into my master's - hic - private and secret - hic - Winky is a good house-elf - hic - Winky keeps her silence - hic - people trying to - hic - pry and poke - hic -"

"People are suspicious of Crouch?" Tess asked.

Winky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she slid off her stool into the hearth, snoring loudly. The empty bottle of butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor. Half a dozen house-elves came hurrying forward, looking disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle; the others covered Winky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the ends in neatly, hiding her from view.

"We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and misses!" squeaked a nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and miss!"

"She's unhappy!" said Hermione, exasperated. "Why don't you try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?"

"I can try sobering her up." said Tess. When the others looked at her for using that strange term, she said, "I can try bringing out of her state."

"Begging your pardon, miss," said the house-elf, bowing deeply again, "but house-elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served."

"Oh for heavens sake!" Hermione cried. "Listen to me, all of you! You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You've got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don't have to do everything you're told - look at Dobby!"

"Miss will please keep Dobby out of this," Dobby mumbled, looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly looking at Hermione as though she were mad and dangerous.

"Think we should am-scray." said Tess.

"We has your extra food!" squeaked an elf at Harry's elbow, and he shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes, and some fruit into Harry's arms. "Good-bye!"

The house-elves crowded around Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione and began shunting them out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of their backs.

"Thank you for the visit, Harry Potter!" Dobby called miserably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy table cloth that was Winky.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, Hermione?" said Ron angrily as the kitchen door slammed shut behind them. "They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!"

"Oh as if you care about that!" scoffed Hermione. "You only like coming down here for the food!"

It was an irritable sort of day after that. Harry got so tired of Ron and Hermione sniping at each other over their homework in the common room that he took Sirius's food up to the Owlery that evening on his own. He was thankful Tess was not in the fight.

Pigwidgeon was much too small to carry an entire ham up to the mountain by himself, so Harry enlisted the help of Crucible and a school screech owls as well. When they had set off into the dusk, looking extremely odd carrying the large package between them. Harry leaned on the windowsill, looking out at the grounds, at the dark, rustling treetops of the Forbidden Forest, and the rippling sails of the Durmstrang ship. An eagle owl flew through the coil of smoke rising from Hagrid's chimney; it soared toward the castle, around the Owlery, and out of sight. Looking down, Harry saw Hagrid digging energetically in front of his cabin. Harry wondered what he was doing; it looked as though he were making a new vegetable patch. As he watched, Madame Maxime emerged from the Beauxbatons carriage and walked over to Hagrid. She appeared to be trying to engage him in conversation. Hagrid leaned upon his spade, but did not seem keen to prolong their talk, because Madame Maxime returned to the carriage shortly afterward.

Unwilling to go back to Gryffindor Tower and listen to Ron and Hermione snarling at each other, Harry watched Hagrid digging until the darkness swallowed him and the owls around Harry began to awake, swooshing past him into the night.

By breakfast the next day Ron's and Hermione's bad moods had burnt out, and to Harry's relief, Ron's dark predictions that the house-elves would send substandard food up to the Gryffindor table because Hermione had insulted them proved false; the bacon, eggs, and kippers were quite as good as usual. Though Tess warned her that karma was coming for her.

When the post owls arrived, Hermione looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something.

"Percy won't've had time to answer yet," said Ron. "We only sent Hedwig yesterday."

"No, it's not that," said Hermione. "I've taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet. I'm getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins."

"Good thinking!" said Harry, also looking up at the owls. "Hey, Hermione, I think you're in luck -"

A gray owl was soaring down toward Hermione.

"It hasn't got a newspaper, though," she said, looking disappointed. "It's -"

But to her bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.

"How many subscriptions did you take out?" said Harry, seizing Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first.

"What on earth - ?" Hermione said, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh really!" she sputtered, going rather red.

"What's up?" said Ron.

"It's - oh how ridiculous -"

"What's ridiculous?" Tess asked.

She thrust the letter at Harry, who saw that it was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.

YOU ARE A WICKED GIRL. HARRY POTTER DESERVES

BETTER. GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM MUGGLE.

"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...' Ouch!"

She had opened the last envelope, and yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.

"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.

"Ow!" said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she were wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves.

"Alright." said Tess. "That's it, you're coming with me to the Hospital Wing."

"But-"

"No Mione." said Tess, helping her up. "I want no if's, ands. or buts about it. I'll go to Sprout and tell her where you've gone."

"I warned her!" said Ron as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall, Tess, hiding her hands. "I warned her not to annoy Rita Skeeter! Look at this one..." He read out one of the letters Hermione had left behind: "I read In Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope.' Blimey, she'd better watch out for herself."

Hermione didn't turn up for Herbology but Sprout was already informed thanks to Tess. As Harry, Tess, and Ron left the greenhouse for their Care of Magical Creatures class, they saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle descending the stone steps of the castle. Pansy Parkinson was whispering and giggling behind them with her gang of Slytherin girls. Catching sight of Harry, Pansy called, "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast? And why did she leave with Tess? Probably for sympathy."

Harry ignored her and held onto Tess stopping her from going ballistic; he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much trouble the Witch Weekly article had caused.

Hagrid, who had told them last lesson that they had finished with unicorns, was waiting for them outside his cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at his feet. Harry's heart sank at the sight of the crates - surely not another skrewt hatching? - but when he got near enough to see inside, he found himself looking at a number of flurry black creatures with long snouts. Their front paws were curiously flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at the class, looking politely puzzled at all the attention.

"These're nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff...There yeh go, look."

One of the nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy Parkinson's watch off her wrist. She shrieked and jumped backward. Tess smiled in relief, knowing Karma had taken it's toll.

"Useful little treasure detectors," said Hagrid happily. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed at the large patch of freshly turned earth Harry had watched him digging from the Owlery window. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, an get ready ter set 'em loose."

Harry took off his watch, which he was only wearing out of habit, as it didn't work anymore, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he picked up a niffler. It put its long snout in Harry's ear and sniffed enthusiastically. It was really quite cuddly.

"Hang on," said Hagrid, looking down into the crate, "there's a spare niffler here...who's missin? Where's Hermione?"

"She had to go to the hospital wing," said Ron.

"We'll explain later," Harry muttered; Pansy Parkinson was listening.

It was easily the most fun they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Ron's was particularly efficient; it had soon filled his lap with coins.

"Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid?" he asked excitedly as his niffler dived back into the soil, splattering his robes.

"Yer mum wouldn' be happy, Ron," said Hagrid, grinning. "They wreck houses, nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," he added, pacing around the patch of earth while the nifflers continued to dive. "I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh there y'are, Hermione!"

Hermione was walking toward them across the lawn. Her hands were very heavily bandaged and she looked miserable. Pansy Parkinson was watching her beadily.

"You ok?" Tess asked.

"I'm fine." said Hermione. "Thanks though, for taking me to the Hospital Wing."

"Hey." said Tess, clapping her back. "Any friend in need will nots be denied their demands."

"Well, let's check how yeh've done!" said Hagrid. "Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

"Now that's what I call fool's gold." Tess piped up.

Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky. It turned out that Ron's niffler had been most successful, so Hagrid gave him an enormous slab of Honeyduke's chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione stayed behind to help Hagrid put the nifflers back in their boxes. Harry noticed Madame Maxime watching them out other carriage window.

"What yeh done ter your hands, Hermione?" said Hagrid, looking concerned.

Hermione told him about the hate mail she had received that morning, and the envelope full of bubotuber pus.

"Aaah, don' worry," said Hagrid gently, looking down at her. "I got some o' those letters an all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an if you had any decency you d jump in a lake.'"

"No!" said Hermione, looking shocked.

"Yeah," said Hagrid, heaving the niffler crates over by his cabin wall. "They're jus' nutters, Hermione. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."

"I got some hate mail too." said Tess. "'You're a discrage. You're a freak. You're just like America itself, greedy and never satisfied.'"

"Those are awful." Hermione said in pity. "Doesn't that hurt you?"

Tess scoffed, piling up some crates. "I'm a New Yorker. Pain's my life."

"You missed a really good lesson," Harry told Hermione as they headed back toward the castle. "They're good, nifflers, aren't they, Ron?"

Ron, however, was frowning at the chocolate Hagrid had given him. He looked thoroughly put out about something.

"What's the matter?" said Harry. "Wrong flavor?"

"No," said Ron shortly. "Why didn't you tell me about the gold?"

"What gold?" said Harry.

"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup," said Ron. "The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"

Harry had to think for a moment before he realized what Ron was talking about.

"Oh..." he said, the memory coming back to him at last. "I dunno...I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand, wasn't I?"

They climbed the steps into the entrance hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch.

"Must be nice," Ron said abruptly, when they had sat down and started serving themselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. "To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."

"That's what's known as coning Ronald." said Tess in her mouthful of turkey.

"Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night!" said Harry impatiently. "We all did, remember?"

"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," Ron muttered. "I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't've given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas."

"Forget it, all right?" said Harry.

Ron speared a roast potato on the end of his fork, glaring at it. Then he said, "I hate being poor."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Neither of them really knew what to say. Though Tess patted Ron's arm in pity.

"It's rubbish," said Ron, still glaring down at his potato. "I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler."

"Ron take it from me." said Tess. "It's better to be poor and have a loving family than a family that's wealthy and doesn't give two craps about you."

"I guess." said Ron. He never considered how despite being poor, he had the most valuable treasure in the world; family. "Thanks."

"Well, we know what to get you next Christmas," said Hermione brightly. Then, when Ron continued to look gloomy, she said, "Come on, Ron, it could be worse. At least your fingers aren't full of pus." Hermione was having a lot of difficulty managing her knife and fork, her fingers were so stiff and swollen. "I hate that Skeeter woman!" she burst out savagely. "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"

"You're in luck." said Tess, smiling an evil smile that would have given a Death Eater a run for his money. "Because if there's one thing this Yank bitch knows best, it's revenge."

Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione over the following week, and although she followed Hagrid's advice and stopped opening it, several of her ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at the Gryffindor table and shrieked insults at her for the whole Hall to hear. Even those people who didn't read Witch Weekly knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione triangle now. Harry was getting sick of telling people that Hermione wasn't his girlfriend.

Tess also got some more hate mail, some more vicious than others. They called Tess a fraud and a fame wannabe. Malfoy had stopped getting hate mail, probably because of his father's influence. When he offered to have the same for Tess, she refused and this caused a small fight between them until she agreed to have Malfoy's father stop it, for him. But when she asked the same for Hermione, he said he would consider it.

"It'll die down, though," she told Hermione, "if we just ignore it...People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time. I mean I think Malfoy might be able to put a stop to it."

"I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" said Hermione angrily.

Hermione hung back in their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Moody something. The rest of the class was very eager to leave; Moody had given them such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of them were nursing small injuries. Harry had such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, he had to hold his hands clamped over them as he walked away from the class.

"Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione panted five minutes later, catching up with Harry and Ron in the entrance hall and pulling Harry's hand away from one of his wiggling ears so that he could hear her. "Moody says he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!"

"Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?" said Ron.

"No." said Tess fiercly. "I want to know how she saw me and Malfoy kissing. And how she found out about Hagrid's mum!"

"Maybe she had you bugged," said Harry. "And I'm still not a happy wizard at you and Malfoy kissing."

"Like Bond? James Bond?" Tess asked.

"Bugged?" said Ron blankly. "What...put fleas on her or something? And who's this James Bond?"

Harry and Tess started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Tess explained James Bond and swore to give Ron a "movi-cation" (movie education) on James Bond and spy movies. Ron was fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.

"Aren't you three ever going to read Hogwarts, A History"

"What's the point?" said Ron. "You know it by heart, we can just ask you."

"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be...If I could just find out what it is...ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her..."

"I can get her reported and shunned for life." Tess agreed high fiving Hermione.

"Haven't we got enough to worry about?" Ron asked her. "Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"

"Yes." said Tess. "Vendetta is my middle name."

"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped. "I'll do it on my own with Tess!"

She marched back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. Harry was quite sure she was going to the library.

"What's the betting she comes back with a box of I Hate Rita Skeeter badges?" said Ron.

Hermione, however, did not ask Harry and Ron to help her pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, for which they were both grateful, because their workload was mounting ever higher in the days before the Easter holidays. She did however ask Tess for tips because she wanted her first vendetta to be accomplished on her own. Harry frankly marveled at the fact that Hermione could research magical methods of eavesdropping as well as everything else they had to do. He was working flat-out just to get through all their homework, though he made a point of sending regular food packages up to the cave in the mountain for Sirius; after last summer, Harry had not forgotten what it felt like to be continually hungry. He and Tess enclosed notes to Sirius, telling him that nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and that they were still waiting for an answer from Percy.

Hedwig didn't return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs. Weasley had sent. Both Harry's and Ron's were the size of dragon eggs and full of homemade toffee. Hermione and Tess', however, was smaller than a chicken egg. Her face fell when she saw it.

"Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. "Gets it for the recipes."

Hermione looked sadly at her tiny egg.

"Come on Mione." said Tess patting her back. "Mrs. Weasley's one of the world's best moms! I'm sure she doesn't believe all that dragoncrap. At least I hope she doesn't."

"Don't you want to see what Percy's written?" Harry asked her hastily.

Percy's letter was short and irritated.

As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors. Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. Happy Easter.

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that both Tess and Harry was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which he needed to prepare, but he still didn't know what he would have to do. He did start taking self defense lessons from Tess who pushed him to the point he collapsed one time at the end of a lesson. Tess pushed him even verbally with the most extreme phrases.

"You think this is hard?" Tess asked watching Harry fail in a front jump kick. "I'm passing a kidney stone as we speak! THAT'S HARD!"

Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held them back in Transfiguration.

"You both are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock." she told them. "Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."

So at half past eight that night. Harry and Tess left Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs. As they crossed the entrance hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common room.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" he asked Harry as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night. "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we've got to find treasure."

"That's the cheesiest task I've ever heard of." said Tess.

"That wouldn't be too bad," said Harry, thinking that he would simply ask Hagrid for a niffler to do the job for him.

They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the field.

"What've they done to it?" Cedric said indignantly, stopping dead.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

"No kidding!" Tess said with same tone Harry used but it was laced with sarcasm.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Harry, Tess, and Cedric made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at the fourth years as they came nearer. Her attitude toward Harry had changed completely since he had saved her sister from the lake and her and Tess were good friends.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily as Tess, Harry and Cedric climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Tess, Harry and Cedric's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment. Then -

"Maze," grunted Krum.

"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"Something tells me it ain't gonna be that easy." Tess remarked.

"She is right. There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures...then there will be spells that must be broken...all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman grinned at Harry and Cedric. "Then Mr. Krum will enter, followed by Miss Crosswell...then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Harry, who knew only too well the kind of creatures that Hagrid was likely to provide for an event like this, thought it was unlikely to be any fun at all. However, he nodded politely like the other champions.

Tess cracked her neck, telling herself to be ready for anything.

"Very well...if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."

Bagman hurried alongside Harry as they began to wend their way out of the growing maze. Harry had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him again, but just then, Krum tapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Could I haff a vord?"

"Yeah, all right," said Harry, slightly surprised.

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Okay," said Harry curiously.

Bagman looked slightly perturbed.

"I'll wait for you. Harry, shall I?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," said Harry, suppressing a smile, "I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks."

Harry and Krum left the stadium together, but Krum did not set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked toward the forest.

"What're we going this way for?" said Harry as they passed Hagrid's cabin and the illuminated Beauxbatons carriage.

"Don't vont to be overheard," said Krum shortly.

When at last they had reached a quiet stretch of ground a short way from the Beauxbatons horses' paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face Harry.

"I vant to know," he said, glowering, "vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny."

Harry, who from Krum's secretive manner had expected something much more serious than this, stared up at Krum in amazement.

"Nothing," he said. But Krum glowered at him, and Harry, somehow struck anew by how tall Krum was, elaborated. "We're friends. She's not my girlfriend and she never has been. It's just that Skeeter woman making things up."

"Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often," said Krum, looking suspiciously at Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry, "because were friends."

He couldn't quite believe he was having this conversation with Viktor Krum, the famous International Quidditch player. It was as though the eighteen-year-old Krum thought he. Harry, was an equal - a real rival -

"You haff never...you haff not..."

"No," said Harry very firmly.

Krum looked slightly happier. He stared at Harry for a few seconds, then said, "You fly very veil. I vos votching at the first task."

"Thanks," said Harry, grinning broadly and suddenly feeling much taller himself. "I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. The Wronski Feint, you really -"

But something moved behind Krum in the trees, and Harry, who had some experience of the sort of thing that lurked in the forest, instinctively grabbed Krum's arm and pulled him around.

"Vot is it?"

Harry shook his head, staring at the place where he'd seen movement. He slipped his hand inside his robes, reaching for his wand.

Suddenly a man staggered out from behind a tall oak. For a moment, Harry didn't recognize him...then he realized it was Mr. Crouch.

He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see. He reminded Harry vividly of an old tramp he had seen once when out shopping with the Dursleys. That man too had been conversing wildly with thin air; Aunt Petunia had seized Dudley's hand and pulled him across the road to avoid him; Uncle Vernon had then treated the family to a long rant about what he would like to do with beggars and vagrants.

"Vosn't he a judge?" said Krum, staring at Mr. Crouch. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"

Harry nodded, hesitated for a moment, then walked slowly toward Mr. Crouch, who did not look at him, but continued to talk to a nearby tree.

"...and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Harry cautiously.

"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen...do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."

Mr. Crouch's eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then he staggered sideways and fell to his knees.

"Mr. Crouch?" Harry said loudly. "Are you all right?"

Crouch's eyes were rolling in his head. Harry looked around at Krum, who had followed him into the trees, and was looking down at Crouch in alarm.

"Vot is wrong with him?"

"No idea," Harry muttered. "Listen, you'd better go and get someone -"

"Dumbledore!" gasped Mr. Crouch. He reached out and seized a handful of Harry's robes, dragging him closer, though his eyes were staring over Harry's head. "I need...see...Dumbledore..."

"Okay," said Harry, "if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the-"

"I've done...stupid...thing..." Mr. Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must...tell...Dumbledore..."

"Get up, Mr. Crouch," said Harry loudly and clearly. "Get up, I'll take you to Dumbledore!"

Mr., Crouch's eyes rolled forward onto Harry.

"Who...you?" he whispered.

"I'm a student at the school," said Harry, looking around at Krum for some help, but Krum was hanging back, looking extremely nervous.

"You're not...his?" whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging.

"No," said Harry, without the faintest idea what Crouch was talking about.

"Dumbledore's?"

"That's right," said Harry.

Crouch was pulling him closer; Harry tried to loosen Crouch's grip on his robes, but it was too powerful.

"Warn...Dumbledore..."

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let go of me," said Harry. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I'll get him..."

"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."

Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that Harry was there, which surprised Harry so much he didn't notice that Crouch had released him.

"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.s, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response..."

"You stay here with him!" Harry said to Krum. "I'll get Dumbledore, I'll be quicker, I know where his office is -"

"He is mad," said Krum doubtfully, staring down at Crouch, who was still gabbling to the tree, apparently convinced it was Percy.

"Just stay with him," said Harry, starting to get up, but his movement seemed to trigger another abrupt change in Mr. Crouch, who seized him hard around the knees and pulled Harry back to the ground.

"Don't...leave...me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I...escaped...must warn...must tell...see Dumbledore...my fault...all my fault...Bertha...dead...all my fault...my son...my fault...tell Dumbledore ...Harry Potter...the Dark Lord...stronger...Harry Potter..."

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let me go, Mr. Crouch!" said Harry. He looked furiously around at Krum. "Help me, will you?"

Looking extremely apprehensive, Krum moved forward and squatted down next to Mr. Crouch.

"Just keep him here," said Harry, pulling himself free of Mr. Crouch. "I'll be back with Dumbledore."

"Hurry, von't you?" Krum called after him as Harry sprinted away from the forest and up through the dark grounds. They were deserted; Bagman, Cedric, Tess, and Fleur had disappeared. Harry tore up the stone steps, through the oak front doors, and off up the marble staircase, toward the second floor.

Five minutes later he was hurtling toward a stone gargoyle standing halfway along an empty corridor.

"Sher - sherbet lemon!" he panted at it.

This was the password to the hidden staircase to Dumbledore's office - or at least, it had been two years ago. The password had evidently changed, however, for the stone gargoyle did not spring to life and jump aside, but stood frozen, glaring at Harry malevolently.

"Move!" Harry shouted at it. "C'mon!"

But nothing at Hogwarts had ever moved just because he shouted at it; he knew it was no good. He looked up and down the dark corridor. Perhaps Dumbledore was in the staffroom? He started running as fast as he could toward the staircase -

"POTTER!"

Harry skidded to a halt and looked around. Snape had just emerged from the hidden staircase behind the stone gargoyle. The wall was sliding shut behind him even as he beckoned Harry back toward him.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore!" said Harry, running back up the corridor and skidding to a standstill in front of Snape instead. "It's Mr. Crouch...he's just turned up...he's in the forest...he's asking -"

"What is this rubbish?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering. "What are you talking about?"

"Mr. Crouch!" Harry shouted. "From the Ministry! He's ill or something - he's in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to -"

"The headmaster is busy. Potter," said Snape, his thin mouth curling into an unpleasant smile.

"I've got to tell Dumbledore!" Harry yelled.

"Didn't you hear me. Potter?"

Harry could tell Snape was thoroughly enjoying himself, denying Harry the thing he wanted when he was so panicky.

"Look," said Harry angrily, "Crouch isn't right - he's - he's out of his mind - he says he wants to warn -"

The stone wall behind Snape slid open. Dumbledore was standing there, wearing long green robes and a mildly curious expression. "Is there a problem?" he said, looking between Harry and Snape.

"Professor!" Harry said, sidestepping Snape before Snape could speak, "Mr. Crouch is here - he's down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!"

Harry expected Dumbledore to ask questions, but to his relief, Dumbledore did nothing of the sort.

"Lead the way," he said promptly, and he swept off along the corridor behind Harry, leaving Snape standing next to the gargoyle and looking twice as ugly.

"What did Mr. Crouch say. Harry?" said Dumbledore as they walked swiftly down the marble staircase.

"Said he wants to warn you...said he's done something terrible...he mentioned his son...and Bertha Jorkins...and - and Voldemort...something about Voldemort getting stronger..."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, and he quickened his pace as they hurried out into the pitch-darkness.

"He's not acting normally," Harry said, hurrying along beside Dumbledore. "He doesn't seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley's there, and then he changes, and says he needs to see you...I left him with Viktor Krum."

"You did?" said Dumbledore sharply, and he began to take longer strides still, so that Harry was running to keep up. "Do you know if anybody else saw Mr. Crouch?"

"No," said Harry. "Krum and I were talking, Mr. Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, and then we saw Mr. Crouch coming out of the forest -"

"Where are they?" said Dumbledore as the Beauxbatons carriage emerged from the darkness.

"Over here," said Harry, moving in front of Dumbledore, leading the way through the trees. He couldn't hear Crouch's voice anymore, but he knew where he was going; it hadn't been much past the Beauxbatons carriage...somewhere around here...

"Viktor?" Harry shouted.

No one answered.

"They were here," Harry said to Dumbledore. "They were definitely somewhere around here..."

"Lumos," Dumbledore said, lighting his wand and holding it up.

Its narrow beam traveled from black trunk to black trunk, illuminating the ground. And then it fell upon a pair of feet.

Harry and Dumbledore hurried forward. Krum was sprawled on the forest floor. He seemed to be unconscious. There was no sign at all of Mr. Crouch. Dumbledore bent over Krum and gently lifted one of his eyelids.

"Stunned," he said softly. His half-moon glasses glittered in the wandlight as he peered around at the surrounding trees.

"Should I go and get someone?" said Harry. "Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," said Dumbledore swiftly. "Stay here."

He raised his wand into the air and pointed it in the direction of Hagrid's cabin. Harry saw something silvery dart out of it and streak away through the trees like a ghostly bird. Then Dumbledore bent over Krum again, pointed his wand at him, and muttered, "Ennervate."

Krum opened his eyes. He looked dazed. When he saw Dumbledore, he tried to sit up, but Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder and made him lie still.

"He attacked me!" Krum muttered, putting a hand up to his head. "The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"

"Lie still for a moment," Dumbledore said.

The sound of thunderous footfalls reached them, and Hagrid came panting into sight with Fang at his heels. He was carrying his crossbow.

"Professor Dumbledore!" he said, his eyes widening. "Harry - what the -?"

"Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff," said Dumbledore. "His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody -"

"No need, Dumbledore," said a wheezy growl. "I'm here."

Moody was limping toward them, leaning on his staff, his wand lit.

"Damn leg," he said furiously. "Would've been here quicker...what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch -"

"Crouch?" said Hagrid blankly.

"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" said Dumbledore sharply.

"Oh yeah...right y'are, Professor..." said Hagrid, and he turned and disappeared into the dark trees, Fang trotting after him.

"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore told Moody, "but it is essential that we find him."

"I'm onto it," growled Moody, and he pulled out his wand and limped off into the forest.

Neither Dumbledore nor Harry spoke again until they heard the unmistakable sounds of Hagrid and Fang returning. Karkaroff was hurrying along behind them. He was wearing his sleek silver furs, and he looked pale and agitated.

"What is this?" he cried when he saw Krum on the ground and Dumbledore and Harry beside him. "What's going on?"

"I vos attacked!" said Krum, sitting up now and rubbing his head. "Mr. Crouch or votever his name -"

"Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

"Igor," Dumbledore began, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his furs around him, looking livid.

"Treachery!" he bellowed, pointing at Dumbledore. "It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak two other champions into the tournament, though they are underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences - here's what I think of you!"

Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

"Apologize!" Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath, Hagrid's massive fist at his throat, his feet dangling in midair.

"Hagrid, no!" Dumbledore shouted, his eyes flashing.

Hagrid removed the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves showered down upon his head.

"Kindly escort Harry back up to the castle, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply.

Breathing heavily, Hagrid gave Karkaroff a glowering look.

"Maybe I'd better stay here. Headmaster..."

"You will take Harry back to school, Hagrid," Dumbledore repeated firmly. "Take him right up to Gryffindor Tower. And Harry - I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do - any owls you might want to send - they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

"Er - yes," said Harry, staring at him. How had Dumbledore known that, at that very moment, he had been thinking about sending Pigwidgeon straight to Sirius, to tell him what had happened?

"I'll leave Fang with yeh. Headmaster," Hagrid said, staring menacingly at Karkaroff, who was still sprawled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree roots. "Stay, Fang. C'mon, Harry."

They marched in silence past the Beauxbatons carriage and up toward the castle.

"How dare he," Hagrid growled as they strode past the lake. "How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore'd do anythin' like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you in the tournament in the firs' place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he's bin lately. An' you!" Hagrid suddenly said angrily to Harry, who looked up at him, taken aback. "What were yeh doin', wanderin' off with ruddy Krum? He's from Durmstrang, Harry! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn he? Hasn' Moody taught yeh nothin'? 'Magine lettin him lure yeh off on yer own -"

"Krum's all right!" said Harry as they climbed the steps into the entrance hall. "He wasn't trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk about Hermione -"

"I'll be havin' a few words with her, an' all," said Hagrid grimly, stomping up the stairs. "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can trust any of 'em."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked dangerously. "One of my best friends is a forgiener, and she's done nothing but stick up for everyone including the Slytherins, so I can't beieve you would say that."

"Tess is alright." Hagrid muttered. "She's not like that lot.

"You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime," Harry said, annoyed.

"Don' you talk ter me abou' her!" said Hagrid, and he looked quite frightening for a moment. "I've got her number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell her what's comin in the third task. Ha! You can' trust any of'em!"

Hagrid was in such a bad mood, Harry was quite glad to say good-bye to him in front of the Fat Lady. He clambered through the portrait hole into the common room and hurried straight for the corner where Ron and Hermione were sitting, to tell them what had happened. But he prayed they wouldn't find out about what Hagrid said about foreigners.


	47. Chapter 47

It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking."

"Either way." said Tess, fixing her sneakers. "Someone did something and that someone's lost it."

"It must've been Crouch," said Ron at once. "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He'd done a runner."

"I don't think so," said Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed really weak - I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything."

"You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" said Hermione.

"Okay...hows this for a theory," said Ron excitedly. "Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!"

"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?" said Hermione coldly.

"Oh yeah..."

"Not a bad idea." said Tess. "But let's keep our eyes and ears open."

It was daybreak. Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione had crept out of their dormitories very early and hurried up to the Owlery together to send a note to Sirius. Now they were standing looking out at the misty grounds. All four of them were puffy-eyed and pale because they had been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch. Tess tried to get the elves to make coffee but they had no idea what it was.

"Just go through it again, Harry," said Hermione. "What did Mr. Crouch actually say?"

"I've told you, he wasn't making much sense," said Harry. "He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault...He mentioned his son."

"Well, that was his fault," said Hermione testily.

"He was out of his mind," said Harry. "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

"Maybe he's just having a nervous breakdown from all the stress in his life?" Tess suggested.

"But...remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" said Ron tentatively.

"I've told you," Harry repeated dully. "He said he's getting stronger."

There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, "But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving..."

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," said Harry, and Ron winced at the sound of the name. "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore."

Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. The many perches were half-empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning from its night's hunting with a mouse in its beak.

"If Snape hadn't held me up," Harry said bitterly, "we might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy. Potter...what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"My hates for that dude has now increased to 1,000." Tess said hotly. "Nots cool."

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" said Ron quickly. "Maybe - hang on - how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something," said Harry.

"Wouldn't put it past him," Ron muttered.

"We need to see Professor Moody," said Hermione. "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch."

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy," said Harry.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," said Tess, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't -"

"Shh!" said Hermione suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Harry could hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

"- that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-"

"- we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did -"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.

"OK! WE GET IT!" Tess yelled, bringing everyone out of it.

Fred grinned.

"Fine - we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," he said.

He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered.

"Well, don't let us hold you up," Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

Ron didn't move. "Who're you blackmailing?" he said.

The grin vanished from Fred's face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," he said easily.

"Didn't sound like that," said Ron.

Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, "I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but -"

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," said Ron. "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."

"No, I won't!" said Ron hotly.

"Although." said Tess. "If you want, I can aid in this little scheme."

"Not thank you Tess." said Fred. "Although we wish you would seriously consider our offer to become a prankster."

"As I said 2 years ago." said Tess. "Pranking? Not my thing."

George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron.

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

He and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another.

"You don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Hermione whispered. "About Crouch and everything?"

"No," said Harry. "If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore."

"Even **they're** not that maniacal." said Tess.

Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked him.

"Well..." said Ron slowly, "I dunno if they would. They're...they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them - when - you know -"

"We weren't talking." Harry finished the sentence for him. "Yeah, but blackmail..."

"It's this joke shop idea they've got," said Ron. "I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future, and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started."

Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.

"Yes, but...they wouldn't do anything against the law to get gold."

"Wouldn't they?" said Tess, looking skeptical. "We're tricksters. Breaking rules is what we do best."

"Yes, but this is the law," said Hermione, looking scared. "This isn't some silly school rule...They'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron...maybe you'd better tell Percy..."

"Are you mad?" said Ron. "Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in." He stared at the window through which Fred and George's owl had departed, then said, "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Moody?" Hermione said as they went down the spiral staircase.

"Yes," said Harry. "He'd probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break."

History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Harry kept checking Ron's watch, having finally discarded his own, but Ron's was moving so slowly he could have sworn it had stopped working too. All four of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn't taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus. Even Tess was too tired to make some comments.

When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

"Professor Moody?" Harry called as they made their way toward him through the crowd.

"Hello, Potter," growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody's head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.

"Come in here."

He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in after them, and closed the door.

"Did you find him?" Harry asked without preamble. "Mr. Crouch?"

"No," said Moody. He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask.

"Did you use the map?" Harry said, already thankful he told Tess Moody had to borrow her prized possesion.

"Of course," said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. "Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there."

"So he did Disapparate?" said Ron.

"You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!" said Hermione. "There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?"

Moody's magical eye quivered as it rested on Hermione. "You're another one who might think about a career as an Auror," he told her. "Mind works the right way. Granger."

Hermione flushed pink with pleasure.

"Well, he wasn't invisible," said Harry. "The map shows invisible people. He must've left the grounds, then."

"But under his own steam?" said Hermione eagerly, "or because someone made him?"

"Yeah, someone could've - could've pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn't they?" said Ron quickly, looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the makings of an Auror.

"We can't rule out kidnap," growled Moody.

"So," said Ron, "d'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?"

"Could be anywhere," said Moody, shaking his head. "Only thing we know for sure is that he's not here."

He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided mouth revealed a number of missing teeth. Then he said, "Now, Dumbledore's told me you four fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, Crosswell, you borh just keep your mind on the third task."

"What?" said Harry. "Oh yeah..."

He hadn't given the maze a single thought since he'd left it with Krum the previous night.

"Should be right up your street, this one," said Moody, looking up at Harry and scratching his scarred and stubbly chin. "From what Dumbledore's said, you've both managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Philospher's Stone in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Ron said quickly. "Me and Hermione helped."

"They did more than help if you ask me." said Tess proudly, of them, not herself.

Moody grinned.

"Well, help Potter practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if neither don't win," said Moody. "In the meantime...constant vigilance, you both. Constant vigilance." He took another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swiveled onto the window. The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship was visible through it.

"You two," counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione, "you stick close to Potter and Crosswell, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same...you can never have too many eyes out."

Sirius sent their owl back the very next morning. It fluttered down beside Harry at the same moment that a tawny owl landed in front of Hermione, clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet in its beak. She took the newspaper, scanned the first few pages, said, "Ha! She hasn't got wind of Crouch!" then joined Ron and Harry in reading what Sirius had to say on the mysterious events of the night before last.

Harry -

What do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed.

Your name and Quintessa's didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you two, they're on their last chance, but why she is involved in this, is beyond me. Both of you, stay close close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourselves for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your heads down and look after each other. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you both won't stray out-of-bounds again.

Sirius

"Who's he, to lecture me about being out-of-bounds?" said Harry in mild indignation as he folded up Sirius's letter and put it inside his robes. "After all the stuff he did at school!"

"Think about it." said Tess said. "First our names are in the Goblet of Fire, then dragons try to kill us, and then Crouch goes nutso. That goes beyond Marauder standards of 'safe'. So give Dad some credit of being a worry wuss."

While they were talking, Tess' owl, Crucible dropped a folder with in her bag that was sitting outside of the table. On it, was Aunt Sara's handwriting that said, _Do NOT open until you're alone._

"Tess is right. He's worried about you two!" said Hermione sharply. "Just like Moody and Hagrid! So listen to them!"

"No one's tried to attack me or Tess all year," said Harry. "No one's done anything to me at all-"

"Except put your names in the Goblet of Fire," said Hermione. "And they must've done that for a reason. Harry. Snuffles is right. Maybe they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're going to get you both."

"So what are you saying?" Tess asked. "This whole Tournament is a trap? Because if it is, I might wanna stock up on weapons."

"Look," said Harry impatiently, "let's say Sirius is right, and someone Stunned Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they would've been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited till me or Tess were out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm their target, does it?"

"They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they'd murdered you in the forest!" said Hermione. "Tess was really lucky that she wasn't there. But if one of you die during a task-"

"They didn't care about attacking Krum, did they?" said Harry. "Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They could've made it look like Krum and I had a duel or something."

"Harry, I don't understand it either," said Tess desperately. "I just know there's a lot of loco going on, and I don't like it and I've never said this...but Moody's right - Dad is right - we can't stop training for the third task, straight away. And you make sure you write back to him and promise him you're not going to go sneaking off alone again."

The Hogwarts grounds never looked more inviting than when Harry had to stay indoors. For the next few days he spent all of his free time either in the library with Hermione, Tess, and Ron, looking up hexes, or else in empty classrooms, which they sneaked into to practice. Tess still taught him some karate, being a black belt and he was a bit clumsy but was giving him some agility. He was concentrating on the Stunning Spell, which he had never used before. The trouble was that practicing it involved certain sacrifices on Ron's and Hermione's part.

"Can't we kidnap Mrs. Norris?" Ron suggested on Monday lunchtime as he lay flat on his back in the middle of their Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and reawoken by Tess for the fifth time in a row. "Let's Stun her for a bit. Or you could use Dobby, guys, I bet he'd do anything to help you both. I'm not complaining or anything" - he got gingerly to his feet, rubbing his backside - "but I'm aching all over..."

"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!" said Hermione impatiently, rearranging the pile of cushions they had used for the Banishing Spell, which Flitwick had left in a cabinet. "Just try and fall backward!"

"Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, Hermione! "said Ron angrily. "Why don't you take a turn?"

"Well, I think Harry and Tess have both got it now, anyway," said Hermione hastily. "And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because they've been able to do that for ages...I think we ought to start on some of these hexes this evening."

She looked down the list they had made in the library.

"I like the look of this one," she said, "this Impediment Curse. Should slow down anything that's trying to attack you. Harry. We'll start with that one."

The bell rang. They hastily shoved the cushions back into Flitwick's cupboard and slipped out of the classroom.

"See you at dinner!" said Hermione, and she set off for Arithmancy while Tess went for Numerology, while Harry and Ron headed toward North Tower, and Divination. Broad strips of dazzling gold sunlight tell across the corridor from the high windows. The sky outside was so brightly blue it looked as though it had been enameled.

Hermione and Tess were walking to their classes when Tess felt something poke at her shoulder. Frowning, she reached into her bag and pulled out the folder that Crucible had dropped in. The raven feathered owl tended to leave a mark on mail to Tess, a three taloned mark on the letter or in this case the folder.

"Now how did I miss this?" Tess said, opening it immediately and taking out the report.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"It's...the report on the Salem Squat Department Fire." Tess said, walking slowly. "Wait.." She put it back in the folder and stopped for a minute.

"What is it Tess?" Hermione asked.

"It's just…" said Tess. "Something about what Rita said when I first met her. She said, 'How do you feel about your mother's death?' I thought she was lying just to get some answers. But now...what if she wasn't? What if my mother's accident, "

"How so?" Hermione asked.

"Look at this." said Tess, taking out the report and showing to her friend. "The report here is neither accidental, nor death. It's inconclusive."

"It's to be determined." Tess clarified. "My mom gets a call on that night, says to me it's important and then she doesn't come back. What was she doing in that building that night? If it was an accidental fire in a building with Anti-Apparating Enhancements inside and out for security purposes, why was there a bullet wound in my mother's head?"

Hermione blanched with shock. "You didn't see this file before?"

"No." Tess said. "I always thought of it as an accident until today. I think that whoever did this, and it says on there, she was chasing a recent serial killer, who was a wizard, and this wizard must have set the fire to cover his tracks."

"But why would your aunt send this file to you?" Hermione asked. "Why now?"

Tess sighed and rubbed her temple. "I don't know Mione. But I've got a feeling it's got something to do with this Tournament."


	48. Chapter 48

"It's going to be boiling in Trelawney's room, she never puts out that fire," said Ron as he and Harry started up the staircase toward the silver ladder and the trapdoor.

He was quite right. The dimly lit room was swelteringly hot. The fumes from the perfumed fire were heavier than ever. Harry's head swam as he made his way over to one of the curtained windows. While Professor Trelawney was looking the other way, disentangling her shawl from a lamp, he opened it an inch or so and settled back in his chintz armchair, so that a soft breeze played across his face. It was extremely comfortable.

"My dears," said Professor Trelawney, sitting down in her winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at them all with her strangely enlarged eyes, "we have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights..."

She waved her wand and the lamps went out. The fire was the only source of light now. Professor Trelawney bent down and lifted, from under her chair, a miniature model of the solar system, contained within a glass dome. It was a beautiful thing; each of the moons glimmered in place around the nine planets and the fiery sun, all of them hanging in thin air beneath the glass. Harry watched lazily as Professor Trelawney began to point out the fascinating angle Mars was making to Neptune. The heavily perfumed fumes washed over him, and the breeze from the window played across his face. He could hear an insect humming gently somewhere behind the curtain. His eyelids began to droop...

He was riding on the back of an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky toward an old, ivy-covered house set high on a hillside. Lower and lower they flew, the wind blowing pleasantly in Harry's face, until they reached a dark and broken window in the upper story of the house and entered. Now they were flying along a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end...through the door they went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up...

Harry had left the owl's back...he was watching, now, as it fluttered across the room, into a chair with its back to him...There were two dark shapes on the floor beside the chair...both of them were stirring...

One was a huge snake...the other was a man...a short, balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose...he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug...

"You are in luck, Wormtail," said a cold, high-pitched voice from the depths of the chair in which the owl had landed. "You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything. He is dead."

"My Lord!" gasped the man on the floor. "My Lord, I am...I am so pleased...and so sorry..."

"Nagini," said the cold voice, "you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all...but never mind, never mind...there is still Harry Potter..."

The snake hissed. Harry could see its tongue fluttering.

"Now, Wormtail," said the cold voice, "perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you..."

"My Lord...no...I beg you..."

The tip of a wand emerged from around the back of the chair. It was pointing at Wormtail.

"Crucio!" said the cold voice.

Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body were on fire, the screaming filled Harry's ears as the scar on his forehead seared with pain; he was yelling too...Voldemort would hear him, would know he was there...

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of Professor Trelawney's room with his hands over his face. His scar was still burning so badly that his eyes were watering. The pain had been real. The whole class was standing around him, and Ron was kneeling next to him, looking terrified.

"You all right?" he said.

"Of course he isn't!" said Professor Trelawney, looking thoroughly excited. Her great eyes loomed over Harry, gazing at him. "What was it. Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?"

"Nothing," Harry lied. He sat up. He could feel himself shaking. He couldn't stop himself from looking around, into the shadows behind him; Voldemort's voice had sounded so close...

"You were clutching your scar!" said Professor Trelawney. "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now. Potter, I have experience in these matters!"

Harry looked up at her.

"I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," he said. "Bad headache."

"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room!" said Professor Trelawney. "If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever -"

"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," said Harry.

He stood up. The class backed away. They all looked unnerved.

"See you later," Harry muttered to Ron, and he picked up his bag and headed for the trapdoor, ignoring Professor Trelawney, who was wearing an expression of great frustration, as though she had just been denied a real treat.

When Harry reached the bottom of her stepladder, however, he did not set off for the hospital wing. He had no intention whatsoever of going there. Sirius had told him what to do if his scar hurt him again, and Harry was going to follow his advice: He was going straight to Dumbledore's office. He marched down the corridors, thinking about what he had seen in the dream...it had been as vivid as the one that had awoken him on Privet Drive...He ran over the details in his mind, trying to make sure he could remember them...He had heard Voldemort accusing Wormtail of making a blunder...but the owl had brought good news, the blunder had been repaired, somebody was dead...so Wormtail was not going to be fed to the snake...he, Harry, was going to be fed to it instead...

Harry had walked right past the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office without noticing. He blinked, looked around, realized what he had done, and retraced his steps, stopping in front of it. Then he remembered that he didn't know the password.

"Sherbet lemon?" he tried tentatively.

The gargoyle did not move.

"Okay," said Harry, staring at it, "Pear Drop. Er - Licorice Wand. Fizzing Whizbee. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans...oh no, he doesn't like them, does he?...oh just open, can't you?" he said angrily. "I really need to see him, its urgent!"

The gargoyle remained immovable.

Harry kicked it, achieving nothing but an excruciating pain in his big toe.

"Chocolate Frog!" he yelled angrily, standing on one leg. "Sugar Quill! Cockroach Cluster!"

The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. Harry blinked.

"Cockroach Cluster?" he said, amazed. "I was only joking..."

He hurried through the gap in the walls and stepped onto the foot of a spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upward as the doors closed behind him, taking him up to a polished oak door with a brass door knocker.

He could hear voices from inside the office. He stepped off the moving staircase and hesitated, listening.

"Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all!" It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "Ludo says Berthas perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with Barty Crouch's!"

"And what do you thinks happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?" said Moody's growling voice.

"I see two possibilities, Alastor," said Fudge. "Either Crouch has finally cracked - more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history - lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere -"

"He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Or else - well..." Fudge sounded embarrassed. "Well, I'll reserve judgment until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?"

"I consider her to be a very able headmistress - and an excellent dancer," said Dumbledore quietly.

"Dumbledore, come!" said Fudge angrily. "Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out harmless - if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he's got -"

"I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid," said Dumbledore, just as calmly. "I think it possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelius."

"Can we wrap up this discussion?" growled Moody.

"Yes, yes, let's go down to the grounds, then," said Fudge impatiently.

"No, it's not that," said Moody, "it's just that Potter wants a word with you, Dumbledore. He's just outside the door."

The door of the office opened.

"Hello, Potter," said Moody. "Come in, then."

Harry walked inside. He had been inside Dumbledore's office once before; it was a very beautiful, circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.

Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.

"Harry!" said Fudge jovially, moving forward. "How are you?"

"Fine," Harry lied.

"We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds," said Fudge. "It was you who found him, was it not?"

"Yes," said Harry. Then, feeling it was pointless to pretend that he hadn't overheard what they had been saying, he added, "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry behind Fudge's back, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, well," said Fudge, looking embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Harry, if you'll excuse us...perhaps if you just go back to your class -"

"I wanted to talk to you. Professor," Harry said quickly, looking at Dumbledore, who gave him a swift, searching look.

"Wait here for me, Harry," he said. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They trooped out in silence past him and closed the door. After a minute or so, Harry heard the clunks of Moody's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below. He looked around.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said.

Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, was standing on his golden perch beside the door. The size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly at Harry.

Harry sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. For several minutes, he sat and watched the old headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their frames, thinking about what he had just heard, and running his fingers over his scar. It had stopped hurting now.

He felt much calmer, somehow, now that he was in Dumbledore's office, knowing he would shortly be telling him about the dream. Harry looked up at the walls behind the desk. The patched and ragged Sorting Hat was standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword with large rubies set into the hilt, which Harry recognized as the one he himself had pulled out of the Sorting Hat in his second year. The sword had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, founder of Harry's House. He was gazing at it, remembering how it had come to his aid when he had thought all hope was lost, when he noticed a patch of silvery light, dancing and shimmering on the glass case. He looked around for the source of the light and saw a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind him, whose door had not been closed properly. Harry hesitated, glanced at Fawkes, then got up, walked across the office, and pulled open the cabinet door.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Harry did not recognize. The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which were like nothing Harry had ever seen before. He could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid - or like wind made solid - Harry couldn't make up his mind.

He wanted to touch it, to find out what it felt like, but nearly four years' experience of the magical world told him that sticking his hand into a bowl full of some unknown substance was a very stupid thing to do. He therefore pulled his wand out of the inside of his robes, cast a nervous look around the office, looked back at the contents of the basin, and prodded them.

The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast.

Harry bent closer, his head right inside the cabinet. The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. He looked down into it expecting to see the stone bottom of the basin - and saw instead an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which he seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling.

The room was dimly lit; he thought it might even be underground, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. Lowering his face so that his nose was a mere inch away from the glassy substance, Harry saw that rows and rows of witches and wizards were seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. An empty chair stood in the very center of the room. There was something about the chair that gave Harry an ominous feeling. Chains encircled the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it.

Where was this place? It surely wasn't Hogwarts; he had never seen a room like that here in the castle. Moreover, the crowd in the mysterious room at the bottom of the basin was comprised of adults, and Harry knew there were not nearly that many teachers at Hogwarts. They seemed, he thought, to be waiting for something; even though he could only see the tops of their hats, all of their faces seemed to be pointing in one direction, and none of them were talking to one another.

The basin being circular, and the room he was observing square, Harry could not make out what was going on in the corners of it. He leaned even closer, tilting his head, trying to see...

The tip of his nose touched the strange substance into which he was staring.

Dumbledore's office gave an almighty lurch - Harry was thrown forward and pitched headfirst into the substance inside the basin -

But his head did not hit the stone bottom. He was falling through something icy-cold and black; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool -

And suddenly, Harry found himself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, a bench raised high above the others. He looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which he had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone.

Breathing hard and fast. Harry looked around him. Not one of the witches and wizards in the room (and there were at least two hundred of them) was looking at him. Not one of them seemed to have noticed that a fourteen-year-old boy had just dropped from the ceiling into their midst. Harry turned to the wizard next to him on the bench and uttered a loud cry of surprise that reverberated around the silent room.

He was sitting right next to Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor!" Harry said in a kind of strangled whisper. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to - I was just looking at that basin in your cabinet - I - where are we?"

But Dumbledore didn't move or speak. He ignored Harry completely. Like every other wizard on the benches, he was staring into the far corner of the room, where there was a door.

Harry gazed, nonplussed, at Dumbledore, then around at the silently watchful crowd, then back at Dumbledore. And then it dawned on him...

Once before. Harry had found himself somewhere that nobody could see or hear him. That time, he had fallen through a page in an enchanted diary, right into somebody else's memory...and unless he was very much mistaken, something of the sort had happened again...

Harry raised his right hand, hesitated, and then waved it energetically in from of Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore did not blink, look around at Harry, or indeed move at all. And that, in Harry's opinion, settled the matter. Dumbledore wouldn't ignore him like that. He was inside a memory, and this was not the present-day Dumbledore. Yet it couldn't be that long ago...the Dumbledore sitting next to him now was silver-haired, just like the present-day Dumbledore. But what was this place? What were all these wizards waiting for?

Harry looked around more carefully. The room, as he had suspected when observing it from above, was almost certainly underground - more of a dungeon than a room, he thought. There was a bleak and forbidding air about the place; there were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all; just these serried rows of benches, rising in levels all around the room, all positioned so that they had a clear view of that chair with the chains on its arms.

Before Harry could reach any conclusions about the place in which they were, he heard footsteps. The door in the corner of the dungeon opened and three people entered - or at least one man, flanked by two dementors.

Harry's insides went cold. The dementors - tall, hooded creatures whose faces were concealed - were gliding slowly toward the chair in the center of the room, each grasping one of the man's arms with their dead and rotten-looking hands. The man between them looked as though he was about to faint, and Harry couldn't blame him...he knew the dementors could not touch him inside a memory, but he remembered their power only too well. The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them.

Harry looked down at the man now sitting in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff.

Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as Harry watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.

"Igor Karkaroff," said a curt voice to Harry's left. Harry looked around and saw Mr. Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside him. Crouch's hair was dark, his face was much less lined, he looked fit and alert. "You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."

Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair.

"I have, sir," he said, and although his voice was very scared, Harry could still hear the familiar unctuous note in it. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I - I know that the Ministry is trying to - to round up the last of the Dark Lords supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can..."

There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then Harry heard, quite distinctly, from Dumbledores other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth."

Harry leaned forward so that he could see past Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there - except that there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Karkaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.

"Crouch is going to let him out," Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore. "He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors."

Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long, crooked nose.

"Ah, I was forgetting...you don't like the dementors, do you, Albus?" said Moody with a sardonic smile almost similar to Tess'.

"No," said Dumbledore calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."

"But for filth like this..." Moody said softly.

"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff," said Mr. Crouch. "Let us hear them, please."

"You must understand," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy...He preferred that we - I mean to say, his supporters - and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them -"

"Get on with it," sneered Moody.

"- we never knew the names of every one of our fellows - He alone knew exactly who we all were -"

"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in," muttered Moody.

"Yet you say you have some names for us?" said Mr. Crouch.

"I - I do," said Karkaroff breathlessly. "And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely -"

"These names are?" said Mr. Crouch sharply.

Karkaroff drew a deep breath.

"There was Antonin Dolohov," he said. "I - I saw him torture countless Muggles and - and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."

"And helped him do it," murmured Moody.

"We have already apprehended Dolohov," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after yourself."

"Indeed?" said Karkaroff, his eyes widening. "I - I am delighted to hear it!"

But he didn't look it. Harry could tell that this news had come as a real blow to him. One of his names was worthless.

"Any others?" said Crouch coldly.

"Why, yes...there was Rosier," said Karkaroff hurriedly. "Evan Rosier."

"Rosier is dead," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle."

"Took a bit of me with him, though, didn't he?" whispered Moody to Harry's right. Harry looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.

"No - no more than Rosier deserved!" said Karkaroff, a real note of panic in his voice now. Harry could see that he was starting to worry that none of his information would be of any use to the Ministry. Karkaroff's eyes darted toward the door in the corner, behind which the dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting.

"Any more?" said Crouch.

"Yes!" said Karkaroff. "There was Travers - he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber - he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"

Harry could tell that, this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together.

"Rookwood?" said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"

"The very same," said Karkaroff eagerly. "I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information -"

"But Travers and Mulciber we have," said Mr. Crouch. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide -"

"Not yet!" cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate. "Wait, I have more!"

Harry could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard.

"Snape!" he shouted. "Severus Snape!"

"Snape has been cleared by this council," said Crouch disdainfully. "He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore."

"No!" shouted Karkaroff, straining at the chains that bound him to the chair. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"

Dumbledore had gotten to his feet.

"I have given evidence already on this matter," he said calmly. "Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."

"That's a lie!" Karkaroff shouted.

Harry turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody. He was wearing a look of deep skepticism behind Dumbledore's back.

"Very well, Karkaroff," Crouch said coldly, "you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime..."

Mr. Crouch's voice faded. Harry looked around; the dungeon was dissolving as though it were made of smoke; everything was fading; he could see only his own body - all else was swirling darkness...

And then, the dungeon returned. Harry was sitting in a different seat, still on the highest bench, but now to the left side of Mr. Crouch. The atmosphere seemed quite different: relaxed, even cheerful. The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event. Harry noticed a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite. She had short blonde hair, was wearing magenta robes, and was sucking the end of an acid-green quill. It was, unmistakably, a younger Rita Skeeter. Harry looked around; Dumbledore was sitting beside him again, wearing different robes. Mr. Crouch looked more tired and somehow fiercer, gaunter...Harry understood. It was a different memory, a different day...a different trial.

The door in the corner opened, and Ludo Bagman walked into the room.

This was not, however, a Ludo Bagman gone to seed, but a Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn't broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular. Bagman looked nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there as it had bound Karkaroff, and Bagman, perhaps taking heart from this, glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile.

"Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters," said Mr. Crouch. "We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?"

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Ludo Bagman, a Death Eater?

"Only," said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, "well - I know I've been a bit of an idiot -"

One or two wizards and witches in the surrounding seats smiled indulgently. Mr. Crouch did not appear to share their feelings. He was staring down at Ludo Bagman with an expression of the utmost severity and dislike.

"You never spoke a truer word, boy," someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind Harry. He looked around and saw Moody sitting there again. "If I didn't know he'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain..."

"Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters," said Mr. Crouch. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than -"

But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mr. Crouch.

"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble, his round blue eyes widening. "None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's...never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on...once my Quidditch days are over, you know...I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?"

There were titters from the crowd.

"It will be put to the vote," said Mr. Crouch coldly. He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. "The jury will please raise their hands...those in favor of imprisonment..."

Harry looked toward the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the witches on the jury stood up.

"Yes?" barked Crouch.

"We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday," the witch said breathlessly.

Mr. Crouch looked furious. The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming.

"Despicable," Mr. Crouch spat at Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. "Rookwood get him a job indeed...The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry..."

And the dungeon dissolved again. When it had returned, Harry looked around. He and Dumbledore were still sitting beside Mr. Crouch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different. There was total silence, broken only by the dry sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch in the seat next to Mr. Crouch. She was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling hands.

Harry looked up at Crouch and saw that he looked gaunter and grayer than ever before. A nerve was twitching in his temple.

"Bring them in," he said, and his voice echoed through the silent dungeon.

The door in the corner opened yet again. Six dementors entered this time, flanking a group of four people. Harry saw the people in the crowd turn to look up at Mr. Crouch. A few of them whispered to one another.

The dementors placed each of the four people in the four chairs with chained arms that now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne; and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw-colored hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief.

Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law," he said clearly, "so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous -"

"Father," said the boy with the straw-colored hair. "Father...please..."

"- that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son's voice.

"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror - Frank Longbottom - and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named -"

"Father, I didn't!" shrieked the boy in chains below. "I didn't, I swear it. Father, don't send me back to the dementors -"

"You are further accused," bellowed Mr. Crouch, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury -"

"Mother!" screamed the boy below, and the wispy little witch beside Crouch began to sob, rocking backward and forward. "Mother, stop him. Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"

"I now ask the jury," shouted Mr. Crouch, "to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!"

In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. The boy began to scream.

"No! Mother, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let him!"

The dementors were gliding back into the room. The boys' three companions rose quietly from their seats; the woman with the heavy-lidded eyes looked up at Crouch and called, "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!"

But the boy was trying to fight off the dementors, even though Harry could see their cold, draining power starting to affect him. The crowd was jeering, some of them on their feet, as the woman swept out of the dungeon, and the boy continued to struggle.

"I'm your son!" he screamed up at Crouch. "I'm your son!"

"You are no son of mine!" bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly. "I have no son!"

The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed.

"Take them away!" Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. "Take them away, and may they rot there!"

"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!"

"I think. Harry, it is time to return to my office," said a quiet voice in Harry's ear.

Harry started. He looked around. Then he looked on his other side.

There was an Albus Dumbledore sitting on his right, watching Crouch's son being dragged away by the dementors - and there was an Albus Dumbledore on his left, looking right at him.

"Come," said the Dumbledore on his left, and he put his hand under Harry's elbow. Harry felt himself rising into the air; the dungeon dissolved around him; for a moment, all was blackness, and then he felt as though he had done a slow-motion somersault, suddenly landing flat on his feet, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Dumbledore's sunlit office. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of him, and Albus Dumbledore was standing beside him.

"Professor," Harry gasped, "I know I shouldn't've - I didn't mean - the cabinet door was sort of open and -"

"I quite understand," said Dumbledore. He lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry to sit down opposite him.

Harry did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.

"What is it?" Harry asked shakily.

"This? It is called a Pensieve," said Dumbledore. "I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"Er," said Harry, who couldn't truthfully say that he had ever felt anything of the sort.

"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

"You mean...that stuff's your thoughts?" Harry said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Let me show you."

Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it - but then Harry saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Harry, astonished, saw his own face swimming around the surface of the bowl. Dumbledore placed his long hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it, rather as a gold prospector would pan for fragments of gold...and Harry saw his own face change smoothly into Snape's, who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.

"It's coming back...Karkaroff's too...stronger and clearer than ever..."

"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore sighed, "but never mind." He peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Harry, who was gaping at Snape's face, which was continuing to swirl around the bowl. "I was using the Pensieve when Mr. Fudge arrived for our meeting and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Curiosity is not a sin," he said. "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity...yes, indeed..."

Frowning slightly, he prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling girl of about sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with her feet still in the basin. She took no notice whatsoever of Harry or Professor Dumbledore. When she spoke, her voice echoed as Snape's had done, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin. "He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday..."

"But why. Bertha," said Dumbledore sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving girl, "why did you have to follow him in the first place?"

"Bertha?" Harry whispered, looking up at her. "Is that - was that Bertha Jorkins?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more. "That was Bertha as I remember her at school."

The silvery light from the Pensieve illuminated Dumbledore's face, and it struck Harry suddenly how very old he was looking. He knew, of course, that Dumbledore was getting on in years, but somehow he never really thought of Dumbledore as an old man.

"So, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."

"Yes," said Harry. "Professor - I was in Divination just now, and - er - I fell asleep."

He hesitated here, wondering if a reprimand was coming, but Dumbledore merely said, "Quite understandable. Continue."

"Well, I had a dream," said Harry. "A dream about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail...you know who Wormtail-"

"I do know," said Dumbledore promptly. "Please continue."

"Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail's blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake - there was a snake beside his chair. He said - he said he'd be feeding me to it, instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail - and my scar hurt," Harry said. "It woke me up, it hurt so badly."

Dumbledore merely looked at him.

"Er - that's all," said Harry.

"I see," said Dumbledore quietly. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?"

"No, I - how did you know it woke me up over the summer?" said Harry, astonished.

"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," said Dumbledore. "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay. Even though he begged me to stay as a dog and live with his daughter."

Dumbledore got up and began walking up and down behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, removed another shining silver thought, and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that Harry couldn't make out anything clearly: It was merely a blur of color.

"Professor?" he said quietly, after a couple of minutes.

Dumbledore stopped pacing and looked at Harry.

"My apologies," he said quietly. He sat back down at his desk.

"D'you - d'you know why my scar's hurting me?"

Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry for a moment, and then said, "I have a theory, no more than that...It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."

"But...why?"

"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," said Dumbledore. "That is no ordinary scar."

"So you think...that dream...did it really happen?"

"It is possible," said Dumbledore. "I would say - probably. Harry - did you see Voldemort?"

"No," said Harry. "Just the back of his chair. But - there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he? But...but then how could he have held the wand?" Harry said slowly.

"How indeed?" muttered Dumbledore. "How indeed..."

Neither Dumbledore nor Harry spoke for a while. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve.

"Professor," Harry said at last, "do you think he's getting stronger?"

"Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, looking at Harry over the Pensieve. It was the characteristic, piercing look Dumbledore had given him on other occasions, and always made Harry feel as though Dumbledore were seeing right through him in a way that even Moody's magical eye could not. "Once again. Harry, I can only give you my suspicions."

Dumbledore sighed again, and he looked older, and wearier, than ever.

"The years of Voldemort's ascent to power," he said, "were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared...within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends."

Dumbledore looked very seriously at Harry.

"These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees - as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."

Harry nodded. Silence fell between them again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then. Harry felt as though he ought to go, but his curiosity held him in his chair.

"Professor?" he said again.

"Yes, Harry?" said Dumbledore.

"Er...could I ask you about...that court thing I was in...in the Pensieve?"

"You could," said Dumbledore heavily. "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others...particularly now..."

"You know - you know the trial you found me in? The one with Crouch's son? Well...were they talking about Neville's parents?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a very sharp look. " Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?" he said.

"Tess mentioned she had a feeling but she told us not to ask for Neville's sake." Harry replied.

"Yes, they were talking about Neville's parents," said Dumbledore. "His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard."

"So they're dead?" said Harry quietly.

"No," said Dumbledore, his voice full of a bitterness Harry had never heard there before. "They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him."

Harry sat there, horror-struck. He had never known...never, in four years, bothered to find out...

"The Longbottoms were very popular," said Dumbledore. "The attacks on them came after Voldemort's fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms' evidence was - given their condition - none too reliable."

"Then Mr. Crouch's son might not have been involved?" said Harry slowly.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"As to that, I have no idea."

Harry sat in silence once more, watching the contents of the Pensieve swirl. There were two more questions he was burning to ask...but they concerned the guilt of living people...

"Er," he said, "Mr. Bagman..."

"...has never been accused of any Dark activity since," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Right," said Harry hastily, staring at the contents of the Pensieve again, which were swirling more slowly now that Dumbledore had stopped adding thoughts. "And...er..."

But the Pensieve seemed to be asking his question for him.

Snape's face was swimming on the surface again. Dumbledore glanced down into it, and then up at Harry.

"No more has Professor Snape," he said.

Harry looked into Dumbledore's light blue eyes, and the thing he really wanted to know spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"

Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."

Harry knew that the interview was over; Dumbledore did not look angry, yet there was a finality in his tone that told Harry it was time to go. He stood up, and so did Dumbledore.

"Harry," he said as Harry reached the door. "Please do not speak about Neville's parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready."

"Yes, Professor," said Harry, turning to go.

"And-"

Harry looked back. Dumbledore was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Harry for a moment, and then said, "Good luck with the third task. And keep an eye on Quintessa, she's closer to discovering the shape she can take than you think. Very close indeed."


	49. Chapter 49

"Dumbledore reckons You-Know-Who's getting stronger again as well?" Ron whispered.

Everything Harry had seen in the Pensieve, nearly everything Dumbledore had told and shown him afterward, he had now shared with Ron, Tess and Hermione - and, of course, with Sirius, to whom Harry had sent an owl the moment he had left Dumbledore's office. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat up late in the common room once again that night, talking it all over until Harry's mind was reeling, until he understood what Dumbledore had meant about a head becoming so full of thoughts that it would have been a relief to siphon them off. Tess had of course, told him what him what she had discovered and it had been quite a shock to learn that the mother of his godfather's child had been murdered.

Ron stared into the common room fire. Harry thought he saw Ron shiver slightly, even though the evening was warm.

"And he trusts Snape?" Ron said. "He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a Death Eater?"

"Yes," said Harry.

Hermione had not spoken for ten minutes. She was sitting with her forehead in her hands, staring at her knees. Harry thought she too looked as though she could have done with a Pensieve.

"Rita Skeeter," she muttered finally.

"How can you be worrying about her now?" said Ron, in utter disbelief.

"I'm not worrying about her," Hermione said to her knees. "I'm just thinking...remember what she said to me in the Three Broomsticks? 'I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl. ' This is what she meant, isn't it? She reported his trial, she knew he'd passed information to the Death Eaters. And Winky too, remember...'Ludo Bagman's a bad wizard.' Mr. Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home."

"Yeah, but Bagman didn't pass information on purpose, did he?"

Hermione shrugged.

"And Fudge reckons Madame Maxime attacked Crouch?" Ron said, turning back to Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry, "but he's only saying that because Crouch disappeared near the Beauxbatons carriage."

"We never thought of her, did we?" said Ron slowly. "Mind you, she's definitely got giant blood, and she doesn't want to admit it-"

"Of course she doesn't," said Tess sharply, looking up. "Look what happened to Hagrid when Rita found out about his ma. Look at Fudge, jumping to conclusions about her, just because she's part giant. Who needs that sort of bullshit? I'd probably say I had big bones if I knew that's what I'd get for telling the truth."

Hermione looked at her watch. "We haven't done any practicing!" she said, looking shocked. "We were going to do the Impediment Curse! We'll have to really get down to it tomorrow! Come on. Harry, you need to get some sleep."

Harry, Tess, and Ron went slowly upstairs to their dormitory. As Harry pulled on his pajamas, he looked over at Neville's bed. True to his word to Dumbledore, he had not told Ron and Hermione about Neville's parents, nor did he ask Tess about it. As Harry took off his glasses and climbed into his four-poster, he imagined how it must feel to have parents still living but unable to recognize you. He often got sympathy from strangers for being an orphan, but as he listened to Neville's snores, he thought that Neville deserved it more than he did. Lying in the darkness, Harry felt a rush of anger and hate toward the people who had tortured Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom...He remembered the jeers of the crowd as Crouch's son and his companions had been dragged from the court by the dementors...He understood how they had felt...Then he remembered the milk-white face of the screaming boy and realized with a jolt that he had died a year later...

It was Voldemort, Harry thought, staring up at the canopy of his bed in the darkness, it all came back to Voldemort...He was the one who had torn these families apart, who had ruined all these lives...

Ron and Hermione were supposed to be studying for their exams, which would finish on the day of the third task, but they were putting most of their efforts into helping Harry and Tess prepare.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said shortly when Tess and Harry pointed this out to them and said he didn't mind practicing on his own for a while, "at least we'll get top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. We'd never have found out about all these hexes in class."

"Good training for when we're all Aurors," said Ron excitedly, attempting the Impediment Curse on a wasp that had buzzed into the room and making it stop dead in midair.

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Harry was practicing hexes at every available moment. He felt more confident about this task than either of the others. Difficult and dangerous though it would undoubtedly be, Moody was right: both Harry and Tess had managed to find thier way past monstrous creatures and enchanted barriers before now, and this time he had some notice, some chance to prepare themselves for what lay ahead.

Tired of walking in on Harry, Hermione, Tess, and Ron all over the school. Professor McGonagall had given them permission to use the empty Transfiguration classroom at lunchtimes. Harry and Tess had soon mastered the Impediment Curse, a spell to slow down and obstruct attackers; the Reductor Curse, which would enable them to blast solid objects out of his way; and the Four-Point Spell, a useful discovery of Hermione's that would make his wand point due north, therefore enabling him to check whether he was going in the right direction within the maze. Tess was still having trouble with the Shield Charm, though. This was supposed to cast a temporary, invisible wall around herself that deflected minor curses; Hermione managed to shatter it with a well-placed Jelly-Legs Jinx, and Tess wobbled around the room for ten minutes afterward before Hermione had looked up the counter-jinx.

"You're still doing really well, though," Hermione said encouragingly, looking down her list and crossing off those spells they had already learned. "Some of these are bound to come in handy."

"Come and look at this," said Ron, who was standing by the window. He was staring down onto the grounds. "What's Malfoy doing?"

Harry and Hermione went to see. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in the shadow of a tree below. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be keeping a lookout; both were smirking. Malfoy was holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it.

"He looks like he's using a walkie-talkie," said Harry curiously.

"I know for a fact that high class wizards like Malfoy don't use walkie talkies or know what it is." said Tess. "And I'm pretty sure that one that small hasn't been invented yet."

"He can't be," said Hermione, "I've told you, those sorts of things don't work around Hogwarts. Come on, guys," she added briskly, turning away from the window and moving back into the middle of the room, "let's try that Shield Charm again."

Sirius was sending daily owls now. Like Hermione, he seemed to want to concentrate on getting Harry and Tess through the last task before they concerned themselves with anything else. He reminded them in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Hogwarts was not their responsibility, nor was it within their power to influence it.

If Voldemort is really getting stronger again, he wrote to Tess. My priority is to ensure your safety. He cannot hope to lay hands on you while you are under Dumbledore's protection, but if he does, I will come after him and you. But all the same, take no risks: Concentrate on getting through that maze safely, and then we can turn our attention to other matters.

Harry's nerves mounted as June the twenty-fourth drew closer, but they were not as bad as those he had felt before the first and second tasks. For one thing, he was confident that, this time, he had done everything in his power to prepare for the task. For another, this was the final hurdle, and however well or badly he did, the tournament would at last be over, which would be an enormous relief.

Tess was preparing herself one day when she met up with Malfoy alone.

"Hey Tess." said Malfoy. "Are you ready for the third task?"

"You betcha." said Tess happily.

"I just don't want…." Draco seemed to fumble for the right words.

"Yes?" Tess asked.

"I don't want to see you hurt." said Draco, holding her hand. "I'm serious. I care about you. A lot."

"I care about you a lot too." said Tess. "But don't worry. I'll survive the experience-hopefully."

Draco just pulled her in a kiss of not only hope but support for each other. They never told each other they loved each other, because they didn't know how.

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. The post owls appeared, bringing Harry and Tess a good-luck card from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Harry appreciated it all the same. A screech owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

"What?" said Harry and Ron together, staring at her. "Nothing," said Hermione quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed it. He stared at the headline and said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"What?" said Harry. "Rita Skeeter again?"

"No," said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.

"It's about me, isn't it?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron, in an entirely unconvincing tone. But before Harry could demand to see the paper. Draco Malfoy shouted across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table.

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

Tess tried to hide it but Harry, using his Seeker skills grabbed it out of her hands but Ron got it after he did.

Malfoy was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet too. Slytherins up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see Harry's reaction.

"Let me see it," Harry said to Ron. "Give it here."

Very reluctantly, Ron handed over the newspaper. Harry turned it over and found himself staring at his own picture, beneath the banner headline:

"HARRY POTTER"

"DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"

The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.

Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.

It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potters brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.

"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."

It is known he is around infamous American student, Quintessa Crosswell, a classified deranged psychopath who has violent tendencies and an attitude for disrespecting her superiors. Is it possible she is influencing this already broken boy to be more confused about life than he is?

The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.

"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."

Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."

Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.

"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry lightly, folding up the paper.

Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at him, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces, and waggling their tongues like snakes.

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron said. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard -"

"The window was open," said Harry. "I opened it to breathe."

"You were at the top of North Tower!" Hermione said. "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Unless she's a werewolf and has super hearing." said Tess.

"I doubt it." said Ron.

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" said Harry. "You tell me how she did it!"

"I've been trying!" said Hermione. "But I...but..."

"But there's gotta be something we're not seeing." said Tess. "Where haven't we looked? If she's not using technology, then...what if...what if…"

An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Tess and Hermione's faces. Hermione slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Could it really be that simple?" She asked.

"Could be a lead." said Tess.

"Are you two all right?" said Ron, frowning at her.

"Yes," said Hermione breathlessly. She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held her hand up to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Harry and Ron stared at each other, Tess was listening to what she was saying.

"I've had an idea," Hermione said, gazing into space. "I think I know...because then no one would be able to see...even Moody...and she'd have been able to get onto the window ledge...but she's not allowed...she's definitely not allowed...I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library - just to make sure!"

With that, Hermione seized her school bag and dashed out of the Great Hall.

"Oi!" Ron called after her. "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," he said, turning back to Harry, "she must really hate that Skeeter woman to risk missing the start of an exam. What're you going to do in Binns's class - read again?"

Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard champion, Harry and Tess had been sitting in the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.

"S'pose so," Harry said to Ron. "Tess what are you girls going on about?"

"Remember what I told you last year, 'sometimes the shape you take reflects the person you are?'" But just then. Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him.

"Potter, Crosswell, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not till tonight!" said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.

"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

She moved away. Harry gaped after her.

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" he asked Ron blankly.

"Look on the bright side." said Tess. "At least you can meet some new people."

"Dunno," said Ron. "Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you both later."

Harry and Tess finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterward. Tess went, after telling Tess she would see him later. Harry stayed where he was. He really didn't want to go into the chamber. He had no family - no family who would turn up to see him risk his life, anyway. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.

"Harry, come on, they're waiting for you!"

Utterly perplexed. Harry got up. The Dursleys couldn't possibly be here, could they? He walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.

Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his father's hooked nose. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry, who waved back, grinning. Tess was talking to her aunt and cousin like they had come for the other tasks. Then he saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them. "Thought we'd come and watch you. Harry!" She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "You too Quintessa!"

"You all right?" said Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail. And Tess..I still can't believe she would try to ride a dragon!"

"Well I take my craft serious." Tess chimed in.

Fleur Delacour, Harry noticed, was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder. Harry could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley. "I thought for a moment - the Dursleys -"

"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips. She had always refrained from criticizing the Dursleys in front of Harry, but her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned.

"It's great being back here," said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, winked at him from her frame). "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"I remember him!" said Johnnie who had joined them. "He was the idiot trying to flirt with the Grey Lady."

"Oh yeah," said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

"And the Fat Lady?" said Bill.

"She was here in my time," said Mrs. Weasley. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement.

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.

"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll," she said. "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks."

"Mind giving us a tour, Harry?" said Aunt Sara.

"Yeah, okay," said Harry, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall. As they passed Amos Diggory, he looked around.

"There you are, are you?" he said, looking Harry up and down.

"Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's caught you up on points, are you?"

"What?" said Harry.

"Ignore him," said Cedric in a low voice to Harry, frowning after his father. "He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament - you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion."

"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?" said Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Harry to hear as he started to walk out of the door with Mrs. Weasley and Bill. "Still,...you'll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven't you?"

"It's just gossip!" Sara exclaimed. "Not everything you read by that bitch is true!"

"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley said angrily. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"

Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.

Harry had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Sara, Johnnie, Bill and Mrs. Weasley, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. Mrs. Weasley was intrigued by the Whomping Willow, which had been planted after she had left school, and reminisced at length about the gamekeeper before Hagrid, a man called Ogg.

"How's Percy?" Harry asked as they walked around the greenhouses.

"Not good," said Bill.

"He's very upset," said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice and glancing around. "The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch's disappearance quiet, but Percy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by him. Percy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting him fill in for Mr. Crouch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelius Fudge is going to be doing it."

They returned to the castle for lunch.

"Mum - Bill!" said Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. "What're you doing here?"

"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"

"Oh...okay," said Ron. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right," he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."

"Luna?" Johnnie asked, looking around the Ravenclaw table.

A dreamy girl with silver blonde hair walked out and said, "It is good to see you Johnathan. I see you are not affected by the Wrackspurts."

The 18 year old wizard just laughed hugging her and Colin with Dennis came and saw Johnnie.

Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow; he had forgotten to worry about that evening's task, and not until Hermione turned up, halfway through lunch, did he remember that she had had a brainwave about Rita Skeeter with Tess.

"Are you going to tell us -?"

Hermione shook her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.

"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.

"Hello," said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry looked between them, then said, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley "No - of course I didn't!"

But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that. Hermione pulled Tess aside and whispered in her ear, "You were right."

Harry, Bill, Johnnie, Sara, and Mrs. Weasley whiled away the afternoon with a long walk around the castle, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her eyes looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her,

There were more courses than usual, but Harry and Tess, both whom was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

Harry and Tess got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; the Weasleys and Hermione all wished him good luck, and they headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor.

"Feeling all right. Harry?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

"I'm okay," said Harry. It was sort of true; he was nervous, but he kept running over all the hexes and spells he had been practicing in his mind as they walked, and the knowledge that he could remember them all made him feel better.

Tess cracked her neck and knuckles, telling herself to that every moment of the past month had led to this point. As long as she didn't get over her head, she was fine.

They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions who walked out in training suits **(A.N, the same outfits worn in the movie)** of their colors. The band was playing festive music, and the entire audience was split in 5 teams, one for each champion. And the champions came out with their teachers, save for Cedric who came out with his father, Krum who came out with Karkaroff, Tess came out with Professor McGonagall and Harry who came out with Dumbledore.

Tess was wearing a black jacket over her purple tanktop, black gym pants and black sneakers with purple accents. She looked over to the stands, Draco cheering and nodding at her and she smiled back.

Ludo Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands, stopping the cheering and music.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows it's exact position. Let me remind you how the points currently stand! They will be the first to enter the maze. Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "In third place - Miss Quintessa Crosswell, of Hogwarts School!" Even half of the Slytherins got up and cheered. "And in fourth place, Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Acadamy!" More applause.

Harry could just make out Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. He waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at him.

"First person to touch the Cup." said Bagman. "Will not only win the task, but the entire tournament!" A nuclear explosion of applause and cheers occurred. "The staff will control the perimeter to at any point a contestant wishes to withdraw from the task, he or she, need only send red sparks up with their wand."

"Champions!" Dumbledore called the over. "Gather round, quickly." They all gathered around the circle and he spoke in a serious tone, a tone of warning. "In the maze, you'll find no dragons nor creatures of the deep. Instead you'll face something even more challenging. See, people **change** in the maze. Oh find the Cup if you can. But be careful. You could just lose yourselves along the way." He then spoke louder. "Champions! Prepare yourself!"

Tess and Harry hugged each other and Tess shook hands with Fleur our of friendship.

"Good luck." Amos said, hugging his son for dear life. "My boy."

"So...on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three - two - one -"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, the festivities commenced, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.

Then Krum went and then Tess. Looking back, she saw McGonagall's concerned face as the maze itself began to close, cutting her from the outside world.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment walls of the maze closed. Tess felt almost as though she were in a cupboard, dark and compressed. She pulled out her wand, muttered, "Lumos," and heard Harry do the same just near her.

After about fifty yards, they reached a three way path. The three Hogwarts champions looked at each other.

"See you," Harry said, and he took the left one, while Cedric took the right and Tess found center.

Tess started running for no reason and her chosen path seemed completely deserted. She turned right, and hurried on, holding her wand high over her head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.

Tess kept looking behind her. The old feeling that she was being watched was upon her. The maze was growing darker and deeper with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened to navy. She reached a fork.

"Point Me," she whispered to her wand, holding it flat in her palm.

The wand spun around once and pointed toward her right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and she knew that she needed to go northwest for the center of the maze. The best she could do was to take the left fork and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty too, and when Tess reached a right turn and took it, she again found her way unblocked. Tess didn't know why, but the lack of obstacles was unnerving her. But she was not surprised by the possible element of surprise. It felt as though the maze were luring her into a pit of fire. Then she heard movement right behind her. She held out her wand, ready to attack, but its beam fell only upon Krum, only he didn't look like himself. His gaze was empty and somewhat fogged. Shrugging her shoulders, she ignored him and ran past him.

Keen to put plenty of distance between herself and the other champions, Tess hurried off again. Then, as she turned a corner, she saw...a dementor gliding toward her. Twelve feet tall, its face hidden by its hood, its rotting, scabbed hands outstretched, it advanced, sensing its way blindly toward her. Tess could hear its rattling breath; she felt clammy coldness stealing over her, but knew what she had to do...

He summoned the happiest thought he could, concentrated with all her might on the thought of spending a day with her father, her finally free father, raised her wand, and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"

A golden coyote erupted from the end of Tess' wand and ran toward the dementor, which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes...Tess had never seen a dementor stumble.

"Wait a minute." she said, advancing in the wake of her golden Patronus, "You're a boggart! Riddikulus!"

There was a loud crack, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The the golden coyote faded from sight. Tess moved on, quickly and quietly as possible, listening hard, her wand held high once more.

Left...right...left again...Once she found herself facing a dead end. He did the Four-Point Spell again and found that she was going too far west. She turned back, took a right turn, and saw an odd golden mist floating ahead of her.

Tess approached it cautiously, pointing the wand's beam at it. This looked like some kind of enchantment. She wondered whether she might be able to blast it out of the way, but she knew better, the Reductor Curse was for blasting tangible objects.

What would happen if she walked through the mist? Was it worth chancing it, or should she double back?

He was still hesitating when a scream shattered the silence.

"Fleur?" Tess heard Harry yell.

There was silence. He stared all around him. What had happened to her? Her scream seemed to have come from somewhere ahead. She took a deep breath and ran through the enchanted mist.

The world turned upside down. Tess was hanging from the ground, with her hair on end, her body threatening to fall into the bottomless sky. It felt as though her feet were glued to the grass, which had now become the ceiling. Below her the dark, star-spangled heavens stretched endlessly. She tried moving her feet from her shoe, but she feared if she tried to move one of her feet, she would fall away from the earth completely.

"Come on Tess." she told herself, as all the blood rushed to her head. "Think."

But not one of the spells she had practiced had been designed to combat a sudden reversal of ground and sky. Did she dare move her foot? She could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She had two choices - try and move, or send up red sparks, and get rescued and disqualified from the task.

She shut her eyes, so she wouldn't be able to see the view of endless space below her, and pulled her left foot as hard as she could away from the grassy ceiling.

Immediately, the world righted itself. Tess fell forward onto her knees onto the wonderfully solid ground. She felt temporarily limp with shock but shook it off. She took a deep, steadying breath, then got up again and hurried forward, looking back over her shoulder as she ran away from the golden mist, which twinkled innocently at him in the moonlight.

"Periculum!" She heard Harry yell and looking up, saw an explosion of red sparks from where Fleur must have been. But why did Harry perform the signal and not Fleur? What had she met? Was she all right? Was she in such trouble that she couldn't reach her wand? Tess took the right fork with a feeling of increasing unease...but at the same time, she couldn't help thinking. One champion down...

The cup was somewhere close by, and it sounded as though Fleur was no longer in the running. She'd got this far, hadn't she? What if she actually managed to win? Either way, it wouldn't make a difference. She didn't want the cup or the glory that came with it. When this was over, she would talk to Harry and come up with an agreement to give the Cup and the prize money to Cedric.

 _He's the real champion, that Shovel Face._ Tess thought.

She met nothing for ten minutes, but kept running into dead ends. Three times she took the same wrong turning. Finally, she found a new route and started to jog along it, her wandlight waving, making her shadow flicker and distort on the hedge walls. Then she rounded another corner and found herself facing a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

It was enormous. Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. Its thick armor glinted in the light from Tess' wand, which she pointed at it.

"Stupefy!"

The spell hit the skrewt's armor and rebounded; Tess ducked just in time, but could smell burning flesh as her foot was on fire; she stomped it out on the ground, and the fire was put out. The skrewt issued a blast of fire from its end and flew forward toward her.

"Impedimenta!" Tess yelled. The spell hit the skrewt's armor again and ricocheted off; Tess staggered back a few paces and fell over. "IMPEDIMENTA!"

The skrewt was inches from him when it froze - she had managed to hit it on its fleshy, shell-less underside. Panting, Tess pushed herself away from it and ran, hard, in the opposite direction - the Impediment Curse was not permanent; the skrewt would be regaining the use of its legs at any moment.

She took a left path and hit a dead end, a right, and hit another; forcing herself to stop, heart hammering, she performed the Four-Point Spell again, backtracked, and chose a path that would take her northeast.

She had been hurrying along the new path for a few minutes, when she heard something in the path running parallel to her own that made her stop dead.

"What are you doing?" yelled Cedric's voice. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

And then Tess heard Krum's voice.

"Crucio!"

The air was suddenly full of Cedric's yells. Horrified, Tess began sprinting up her path, trying to find a way into Cedric's. But unfortunately, some vines began grabbing onto her and pulling her to the hedge, as if to trap her there. She tried to pull away, using brute force, they pulled onto her harder. She tried the Reductor Curse. It wasn't very effective, but it burned a small hole in the hedge through which Tess forced her arm, tearing at the thick brambles and branches until they broke and made an opening; she struggled through it, tearing her jacket and kept running.

"STUPEFY!" She heard Harry yell as she made a corner to where Harry was helping Cedric up.

"Are you all right?" Harry said roughly, grabbing Cedric's arm.

"Yeah," panted Cedric. "Yeah...I don't believe it...he crept up behind me...I heard him, I turned around, and he had his wand on me..."

"Krum did this to you?" Tess asked.

Cedric got up. He was still shaking. He and Harry looked down at Krum.

"Tess what happened?" Cedric asked.

"Never mind me." Tess snapped, waving her hand impatiently. "What's up with him?" She pointed to the unconscious Bulgarian.

"I can't believe this...I thought he was all right," Harry said, staring at Krum.

"So did I," said Cedric.

"Guess all those Bludgers got to him." said Tess.

"Did you hear Fleur scream earlier?" said Harry.

"That girl can scream loud and clear." said Tess.

"Yeah," said Cedric. "You don't think Krum got her too?"

"I don't know," said Harry slowly.

"Should we leave him here?" Cedric muttered.

"No," said Harry. "I reckon we should send up red sparks. Someone'll come and collect him...otherwise he'll probably be eaten by a skrewt."

"Probably a good idea." said Tess.

"He'd deserve it," Cedric muttered, but all the same, he raised his wand and shot a shower of red sparks into the air, which hovered high above Krum, marking the spot where he lay.

Harry and Cedric stood there in the darkness for a moment, looking around them. Then Cedric said, "Well...I s'pose we'd better go on..."

"What?" said Harry. "Oh...yeah...right..."

"Coming Tess?" Cedric asked kindly.

It was an odd moment. He and Cedric had been briefly united against Krum - now the fact that they were opponents came back to Harry. The three of them proceeded up the dark path without speaking, then Harry turned left, Tess center, and Cedric right. Cedric's footsteps soon died away.

Harry moved on, continuing to use the Four-Point Spell, making sure he was moving in the right direction. It was between him, Tess, and Cedric now. His desire to reach the cup first was now burning stronger than ever, but he could hardly believe what he'd just seen Krum do. The use of an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow human being meant a life term in Azkaban, that was what Moody had told them. Krum surely couldn't have wanted the Triwizard Cup that badly...Harry sped up.

Every so often he hit more dead ends, but the increasing darkness made him feel sure he was getting near the heart of the maze. Then, as he strode down a long, straight path, he saw movement once again, and his beam of wandlight hit an extraordinary creature, one which he had only seen in picture form, in his Monster Book of Monsters.

It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Harry as he approached. He raised his wand, hesitating. She was not crouching as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking his progress. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"So...so will you move, please?" said Harry, knowing what the answer was going to be.

"No," she said, continuing to pace. "Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess - I let you pass. Answer wrongly - I attack. Remain silent - I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

Harry's stomach slipped several notches. It was Hermione who was good at this sort of thing, not him. He weighed his chances. If the riddle was too hard, he could keep silent, get away from the sphinx unharmed, and try and find an alternative route to the center.

"Okay," he said. "Can I hear the riddle?"

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:

"First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of the end?

And finally give me the sound often heard

During the search for a hard-to-find word.

Now string them together, and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"

Harry gaped at her.

"Could I have it again...more slowly?" he asked tentatively. She blinked at him, smiled, and repeated the poem. "All the clues add up to a creature I wouldn't want to kiss?" Harry asked.

She merely smiled her mysterious smile. Harry took that for a "yes." Harry cast his mind around. There were plenty of animals he wouldn't want to kiss; his immediate thought was a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but something told him that wasn't the answer. He'd have to try and work out the clues...

"A person in disguise," Harry muttered, staring at her, "who lies...er...that'd be a - an impostor. No, that's not my guess! A - a spy? I'll come back to that...could you give me the next clue again, please?"

She repeated the next lines of the poem.

"'The last thing to mend,'" Harry repeated. "Er...no idea...'middle of middle'...could I have the last bit again?"

She gave him the last four lines.

"'The sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word,'" said Harry. "Er...that'd be...er...hang on - 'er'! Er's a sound!"

The sphinx smiled at him.

"Spy...er...spy...er..." said Harry, pacing up and down. "A creature I wouldn't want to kiss...a spider!"

The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside for him to pass.

"Thanks!" said Harry, and, amazed at his own brilliance, he dashed forward.

He had to be close now, he had to be...His wand was telling him he was bang on course; as long as he didn't meet anything too horrible, he might have a chance...

Harry broke into a run. He had a choice of paths up ahead. "Point Me!" he whispered again to his wand, and it spun around and pointed him to the right-hand one. He dashed up this one and saw light ahead.

The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away. Suddenly two dark figures hurtled out onto the path in front of him.

Cedric was going to get there first. Cedric was sprinting as fast as he could toward the cup, and Harry knew he would never catch up, Cedric was much taller, had much longer legs -

And Tess was moving about the same speed. She had more experience, skateboarding and being a street child.

Then Harry saw something immense over a hedge to his left, moving quickly along a path that intersected with his own; it was moving so fast Cedric was about to run into it, and Cedric, his eyes on the cup, had not seen it -

"Cedric!" Harry bellowed. "On your left!"

Cedric looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing and avoid colliding with it, but in his haste, he tripped. Harry saw Cedric's wand fly out of his hand as a gigantic spider stepped into the path and began to bear down upon Cedric.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled; the spell hit the spider's gigantic, hairy black body, but for all the good it did, he might as well have thrown a stone at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around, and ran at Tess instead.

"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!"

But it was no use - the spider was either so large, or so magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating it. Harry however had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon him.

He was lifted into the air in its front legs; struggling madly, he tried to kick it; his leg connected with the pincers and next moment he was in excruciating pain. He could hear Cedric yelling "Stupefy!" too as well as Tess yelling "Impedimenta!", but her spell had no more effect than Cedric's - Harry raised his wand as the spider opened its pincers once more and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

It worked - the Disarming Spell made the spider drop him, but that meant that Harry fell twelve feet onto his already injured leg, which crumpled beneath him. Without pausing to think, he aimed high at the spider's underbelly, as he had done with the skrewt, and shouted "Stupefy!''just as Cedric and Tess yelled the same thing.

The three spells combined did what one alone had not: The spider keeled over sideways, flattening a nearby hedge, and strewing the path with a tangle of hairy legs.

"Harry!" he heard Cedric shouting. "You all right? Did it fall on you?"

"No," Harry called back, panting. He looked down at his leg. It was bleeding freely. He could see some sort of thick, gluey secretion from the spider's pincers on his torn robes. He tried to get up, but his leg was shaking badly and did not want to support his weight. He leaned against the hedge, gasping for breath, and looked around.

"Hold on Harry." Tess said, taking off her torn jacket, ripping a large piece off of it and wrapping it around Harry's leg like a cast.

Cedric was standing feet from the Triwizard Cup, which was gleaming behind him.

"Take it, then," Harry panted to Cedric. "Go on, take it. You're there."

"I'm not taking it." said Tess. "But someone's gotta."

But Cedric didn't move. He merely stood there, looking at Harry and Tess. Then he turned to stare at the cup. They saw the longing expression on his face in its golden light. Cedric looked around at the fourth years again, who was now holding onto the hedge to support himself. Cedric took a deep breath.

"You take it Tess. You should win. That's twice you've saved my neck in here."

"That's not how it's supposed to work," Tess said. "Harry do you want it?"

"No." He grumbled. He felt angry; his leg was very painful, he was aching all over from trying to throw off the spider, and after all his efforts, Cedric had beaten him to it, just as he'd beaten Harry to ask Cho to the ball. "The one who reaches the cup first gets the points. That's you. I'm telling you, I'm not going to win any races on this leg."

Cedric took a few paces nearer to the Stunned spider, away from the cup, shaking his head.

"No," he said.

"Stop being noble," said Tess irritably. "Just take it, then we can get out of here."

Cedric watched Harry steadying himself, holding tight to Tess as she helped him stand.

"You told me about the dragons," Cedric said to Harry. "I would've gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."

"I had help on that too," Harry snapped, trying to mop up his bloody leg with his robes. "You helped me with the egg - we're square."

"I had help on the egg in the first place," said Cedric.

"We're still square," said Harry, testing his leg gingerly; it shook violently as he put weight on it; he had sprained his ankle when the spider had dropped him.

"Tess you're the one who gave me advice on how to ask out my date to the ball." said Cedric. "I had the most amazing night because of you."

"You let him ask Cho?" Harry hissed at his American friend.

Tess raised her hands in surrender as she said, "Hey, he said he needed advice to ask a girl but he failed to specify exactly who."

"You should've got more points on the second task, Harry." said Cedric mulishly. "You stayed behind to get all the hostages. I should've done that."

"I was the only one who was thick enough to take that song seriously!" said Harry bitterly. "Just take the cup!"

"No," said Cedric.

He stepped over the spider's tangled legs to join Harry, who stared at him. Cedric was serious. He was walking away from the sort of glory Hufflepuff House hadn't had in centuries.

"Go on," Cedric said. He looked as though this was costing him every ounce of resolution he had, but his face was set, his arms were folded, he seemed decided.

"Tess?" Harry asked.

"Hey all I wanted from the start to see who would win and I knew back then it wasn't gonna be me. You deserve this." Tess said honestly.

Harry looked from Cedric to the cup. For one shining moment, he saw himself emerging from the maze, holding it. He saw himself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Cho's face shining with admiration, more clearly than he had ever seen it before...and then the picture faded, and he found himself staring at Cedric's shadowy, stubborn face. And he saw Tess' eyes, urging him to go on.

"All of us," Harry said.

"What?"

"For reals?"

"We'll all take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."

Cedric stared at Harry. He unfolded his arms.

"You - you sure?"

"I don't know if a three way tie is gonna work." said Tess.

"Yeah," said Harry. "But...we've all helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it altogether."

"Well." said Tess. "It makes sense I guess. We started together and we end together."

For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split in a grin.

"You're on," he said. "Come on."

Tess took Harry's arm below the shoulder and helped Harry limp toward the plinth where the cup stood. When they had reached it, they all held a hand out over one of the cup's gleaming handles.

"On three, right?" said Harry. "One - two - three -"

He, Tess, and Cedric both grasped a handle.

Instantly, Tess felt a jerk somewhere behind her navel. Her feet had left the ground. She could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling her onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, Harry Cedric at her sides.

Tess felt her feet slam into the ground and she fell forward; her hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. She raised her head.

"Where are we?" she heard Harry ask.

Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.

They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

"I'm guessing we're not in Kansas anymore." said Tess.

Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry then Tess.

"Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked.

"If anyone did." said Tess. "Something tells me they wouldn't want us going to a creepy graveyard. I swear if any zombie cats come out of their graves or two little girls come out of the woods and ask me to play with them, I'm outtie 5,000."

Harry was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"Like a bonus round?" Tess asked.

"I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.

They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling of deja vu.

"I've been here before." said Harry. "In a dream."

"What dream?" Cedric asked.

Harry took a look on one of the graves, reading the name, "Tom Riddle" and realized that this was no part of the Tournament.

"Tess." He said. "Remember you told me we'd know if we're in too deep?"

"Yeah." Tess nodded.

"We're in too deep." said Harry.

Tess blanched, grabbing Harry and ordering Cedric, "We've gotta get back to the Cup. Now!"

"What do you mean?" Cedric asked. "Is someone coming?"

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time - Harry saw that the thing in the persons arms looked like a baby...or was it merely a bundle of robes?

And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open.

"Harry!" Cedric exclaimed in shock.

"Get back to the Cup." Harry ordered.

"But Harry-" Tess cried, rushing to his aid

"NOW!"

Cedric got out his wand and said defensively, "Who are you? What do you want?"

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"

A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids ("CEDRIC!" Tess screamed.), and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes.

Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. He was dead.

For a second that contained an eternity, Harry stared into Cedric's face, at his open gray eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his half-open mouth, which looked slightly surprised. And then, before Harry's mind had accepted what he was seeing, before he could feel anything but numb disbelief, he felt himself being pulled to his feet.

Tess had seen many things, but death was not one of them. Her mind struggled to comprehend the horror she had witnessed. _How could anyone do this?_ Tess thought as she tried to get up to help her friend but the cloaked figure had cast the Impedimenta Jinx, slowing her down. _How could anyone just kill an innocent boy? When he had done nothing wrong but try to protect his friends?_

The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry toward the marble headstone. Harry saw the name, Tom Riddle again upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him - hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.

"You!" he gasped.

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Harry and hurried away to tie the recovering Tess the same way he tied Harry, rope, gag and everything. She was tied to another tombstone not far right from where Harry was, so they could see each other in their range of vision. He couldn't make a sound, nor could he see where Wormtail had gone; he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the headstone; he could see only what was right in front of him.

Cedric's body was lying some twenty feet away. Some way beyond him, glinting in the starlight, lay the Triwizard Cup. Harry's wand was on the ground at Cedric's feet. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again...and he suddenly knew that he didn't want to see what was in those robes...he didn't want that bundle opened...

Tess could hear noises at her feet. She looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where she was tied. The snake stopped, to look as if it was observing her and slithered away.

Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's and Tess' ranges of vision, and they saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - Harry could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling names beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.

The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And the young wizards heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready. Master."

"Do it, now!" said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth. Tess was resisting the urge to scream at the sight, although some got in her mouth.

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

Let it drown, Harry thought, his scar burning almost past endurance, please...let it drown...

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, both Tess and Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. Tess was too late to look away as she saw Wormtail chop off one of his own hands and she had to summon every amount of strength she could muster-just to keep from vomiting. Harr heard something something was dropped into the cauldron with a sickening splash. Harry couldn't stand to look...but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids and now Tess had to look away...

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.

"B-blood of the enemy...forcibly taken...you will...resurrect your foe."

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly...Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. Tess screamed as loud as she can, refusing to accept that she, like Harry, could do nothing about it. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm with a short gash, and blood was seeping down the sleeve of his torn shirt. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood.

"The D-dark Lord-shall rise-again." He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened...

Let it have drowned. Harry thought, let it have gone wrong...

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry and Tess, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air...It's gone wrong, he thought...it's drowned ...please...please let it be dead...

 _Oh triple Crap._ Tess thought.

But then, through the mist in front of them, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, put on his robes and started to feel his flesh, embracing it's return. The face that had haunted Harry's nightmares for three years had also returned. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils...

Lord Voldemort had risen again.


	50. Chapter 50

Voldemort looked away began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Tess again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against another headstone; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort was laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My Lord..." he choked, "my Lord...you promised...you did promise..."

"My wand, Wormtail." Voldemort said softly.

Wormtail gasped in sobbing joy. "Oh Master.." he gave him the long white wand.

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master...thank you, Master..."

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort said, "The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please...please..."

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid green tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it...and now, we shall see...now we shall know..."

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and it had turned jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward...slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master...Master..." he murmured.

If Tess wasn't gagged, she would have performed a mock gag.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Tess, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years...thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench or guilt upon the air.

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! and I ask myself...why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment ...

"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort...perhaps they now pay allegiance to another...perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me...I confess myself disappointed..."

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around...Let the police come, he thought desperately...anyone...anything...

Voldemort raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years...I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "please. Master...please..."

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me...and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers..."

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtail's bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master...it is beautiful...thank you...thank you..."

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said Voldemort.

"No, my Lord...never, my Lord..."

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius...Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay...but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -"

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius...You have disappointed me...I expect more faithful service in the future. And there were signs my friend, and more than whispers."

"Of course, my Lord, of course...You are merciful, thank you..."

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me...When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us...they are our natural allies...we will recall the banished giants...I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear..."

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair...destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide..."

"Thank you, Master...thank you," murmured Macnair.

"And here" - Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures - "we have Crabbe...you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master..."

"We will, Master..."

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyles shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -"

"That will do," said Voldemort.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters...three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return...he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever...he will be killed, of course...and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight...

"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor."

He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool...very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child...and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death..."

Voldemort laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was...He didn't like magic, my father...

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born. Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage...but I vowed to find him...I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name...Tom Riddle..."

Still he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving family history..." he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental...But look, Harry! My true family is here, once again at my side...The Boy Who Lived, indeed!"

There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of Wormtail stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask.

"Master, we crave to know...we beg you to tell us...how you have achieved this...this miracle...how you managed to return to us..."

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friend here."

He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him - and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen...I could not touch the boy."

Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek.

"His mother left upon him the traces other sacrifice...This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it...but no matter. I can touch him now."

Harry felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch him, and thought his head would burst with the pain. Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters.

"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah...pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost...but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know...I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked...for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself...for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand...

"I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist...I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited...Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me...one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body..., but I waited in vain..."

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening Death Eaters. Voldemort let the silence spiral horribly before continuing.

"Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me.

I sometimes inhabited animals - snakes, of course, being my preference - but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic...and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long...

"Then...four years ago...the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard - young, foolish, and gullible - wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of...for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school...he was easy to bend to my will...he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted...thwarted, once again, by Harry Potter..."

Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Death Eaters were quite motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Voldemort, and upon Harry.

"The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been," Voldemort continued. "I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers...Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour...I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess...and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me..."

One or two of the masked wizards in the circle moved uncomfortably, but Voldemort took no notice.

"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last...a servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding...helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them...

"But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food...and who should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic.

"Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him - convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her...he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams...for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information.

"She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things...but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

Voldemort smiled his terrible smile, his red eyes blank and pitiless.

"Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth...a spell or two of my own invention...a little help from my dear Nagini," Voldemort's red eyes fell upon the continually circling snake, "a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided...I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel.

"There was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower...I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

"I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant...

"My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe...Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me...as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potters blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago...for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too...

"But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there...Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup...I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him?

"Why...by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the tournament - that he touched the Triwizard Cup first - the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is...the boy you all believed had been my downfall..."

He then heard a grunt, a very angry grunt, and then some sounds as to try to make a sentence, but couldn't because of the cloth covering her mouth and gasped at the sight of the person making the sounds. "Ah Quintessa! Oh, I had almost forgotten you were here! I'd introduce you but word has it you're almost as famous as Potter these days. I sense you have something to say yes?" He turned to Wormtail angrily. "Wormtail, why did you not remove the cloth from her mouth? Surely this girl has something to say and you deny it of her."

Wormtail got on his knees and started to kiss Voldemort's robes, gasping in sobs, "Master! I'm sorry! I didn't know!" Voldemort raised his wand and sent Wormtail flying back. "I didn't want her screaming!"

"Ah no matter." said Voldemort moving and making the cloth disappear. Tess gasped for fresh air. "That's better. Now, what is it you wanted to say?"

"Now I have two things actually." said Tess. "One, how the fuck do you know my name? Two, if you needed Harry's blood, then why am I still here?"

Voldemort moved slowly towards her and with his long bony fingers, brushed her cheek. Tess now saw what he truly looked like; a monster who had almost literally lost his humanity.

"You are as beautiful as they say." said Voldemort said with interest. Tess then tried to use her mouth to bite him but he was too fast for her. "And as headstrong. A trait I find remarkable in a young girl like yourself. But it won't suffice long."

"Voldemort." said Tess. "There's something that just don't add up. Why did you order...Wormtail to kill Cedric but not me?"

"Is this what he's called?" Voldemort said coldly moving towards Cedric's body. "Oh, tsk, tsk, tsk. (He moved Cedric's face aside with his feet) Such a handsome face."

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!" Tess screamed.

Voldemort faced her with a disappointed look on his face. "I can see what we have to work on and it is better to start now than later. Dear Quintessa, such bravado. Didn't your mother teach you it is rude to disrespect your superiors?"

"Superiors, my ass!" Tess yelled defiantly. "Cut the crap Dark Lord and answer the question! Why do you need me?"

SLAP! Tess cheek started redding from the hit she had taken from Lord Voldemort and he held her cheeks in a disciplinary manner. "I will **not** be spoken to like that, no matter the ranks."

"Ranks?" Tess asked one he let her mouth go. "Is that why you need me? Wormtail and your Death Eaters got too boring for you? You want me as just another Death Eater?"

Voldemort laughed his cold merciless laugh and said with a sudden tone of cold generosity, "The rank of a Death Eater? Oh no, I have something to offer you that is beyond your wildest dream. You're here, my American friend, because I want to offer you the greatest proposition. The supreme rank in my army. My second-in-command, if you must.

"For a long time, even when I was the mightiest of wizardkind, my power was reaching all over Europe and I was spreading slowly all over the world, especially to your pathetic excuse of a country. (Tess reddened even more at this.) But...something was missing. I had power, immortality, followers and even people who started to see the truth of what this world should be. But something was not there. A missing piece of the puzzle. Now, for four, long, insatiable years, I have been searching for an apprentice, someone to pass down my knowledge to the next generation, someone to set an example for all children who do not wish to join greatness, and who knows? Maybe even she could be like a daughter of mine.

Searching for this apprentice was no easy task. It took many months, travelling and travelling, searching for every child who showed potential, a spark in them that could be fanned into a firestorm. And then, when I took hold of that pathetic wizard, Quirrell, and I met a distinctive American girl, I began to take interest. Wormtail told me much about you, of your background, your family history and your parentage, Quintessa Black (Tess' eyes widened at the mention of her secret) and your...acquaintances with Draco Malfoy. And this year, when you used your power to deflect Alastor Moody and cause damage as such, I knew I had found the worthiest student. You. (He leaned down closer and Tess could see the blood red irises of his eyes.) Congratulations.

"Now." He stopped her from speaking. "You will follow what you have been taught and defy my, which leaves me no surprise at all. But just imagine all the power you will have and develop. Do you ever imagine, why you are able to perform wandless magic? Where did this come from? What if you get out of control, what will happen? I smell fear from you. You are afraid you will hurt someone, and when you do, even your own father will look at you as a monster, and who better to shape you into the powerful witch I see you will become? Just think, you will have hundreds of wizards at your command, you will learn the most powerful of arts, have tens of the wealthiest of family vaults at your display. I could train you, teach you everything I know. And if Lucius will let you, (He cast a glare at said wizard's direction.), his son, Draco will court you and you two can finally be betrothed, as you were always destined to be, the purest of all bloodlines, your family. I will even help you track down the filth who murdered your mother and see to it that you personally avenge the fiery Morgan Crosswell. All you have to do, is renounce your mundane life and swear your faith and allegiance to me."

Tess sat still, so to speak, and pondered heavily on this matter. She knew she couldn't trust Voldemort or anything he said. But maybe, he did have a point. There was a power growing inside her, and maybe he **could** teach her how to control it. She could be with Draco, have her family never be poor, and get revenge on everyone who wronged her, including the man who took her mother away from her. She could make him pay dearly and make him suffer. She could even achieve her Animagus form, maybe he could shape her…

_No Tess. Snap out of it, it's just the snake's venom talking. Don't let it flow through your brain._

But what if he was right? What if Tess' unknown power got out of hand and hurt someone or even killed someone? And then they hated her? Who would take her in then?

What to do...what to do…


	51. Chapter 51

"I have my answer." said Tess out loud.

Voldemort smiled but in a very spine chilling way. "You have chosen well, apprentice. Anything you would like to say?"

"Yes." said Tess. She mustered all of her spit and launched as close as she could get at the Dark Lord's feet or robes. "Go suck a lemon."

All the Death Eaters stiffened at Tess' choice of words, appalled by her rebelliousness but Voldemort laughed his cold laugh.

"Ah Quintessa, foolish girl." He said circling her. "You're only delaying the inevitable. You may be telling the truth but I know deep down you are just lying to yourself."

Voldemort turned around slowly and faced Harry. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end...to black out...to die…

Tess struggled against her rope, her rage building up inside her, but it was more than rage this time; it was pure animalistic instinct to protect her pack. Because she could take pain and had no problem risking her own life, but **no one** was allowed to hurt her brother. No one ever! Tess then felt something inside burst, like a cage being burst and something unleashed, something that was a better version of Tess. Not only was something inside of her being released, Tess was changing. Her body was changing.

And then the pain was gone. Harry was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters' laughter.

"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching.

"My lord." An American Death Eater called out, stopping everything. Voldemort moved as fast as a snake towards the wizard and stopped, obviously irritated that he was interrupted.

"What is more important that you dare interrupt me at the precipice of my return to power?" Voldemort demanded.

"My lord." The American voice said with fear. "The Crosswell girl. She's gone."

"Gone?" Voldemort stiffened, looking around. On the tombstone where Tess was tied up, the ropes were gone, as if she had slipped through them. All the Death Eaters seemed to be in a searching frenzy until a large shape tackled one of them. Numerous curses were fired at the moving shape, but it was too fast for the Death Eaters. One by one, one Death Eater after another, the shape attacked until it was thrown to Harry, who saw the shape resembled a dog but it was about almost the size of a wolf.

The animal was getting up, the pale moonlight, showing the golden yellow fur of the animal. When the animal turned it's head, it showed Harry bright amythest eyes. Harry knew only one person who had eyes that color.

 _Tess?_ Harry thought.

"My Death Eaters!" Voldemort said in glee as he used the Impediment Jinx on the animal, slowing it down. "Take in the marvel you see before you tonight. We have here a witch who at this moment, has transformed into an animal for the first time. After a year too! Training with Professor Dumbledore must have done wonders has it not?"

Tess let out a bark of fear. How had Voldemort known about her private lessons?

Harry was more confused than he had ever been. Tess had been taking private lessons on how to become an Animagus all this time?

"My American traveller." Voldemort said turning to the wizard who was standing to where Tess was tied moments ago. "Tell us and Potter what shape Quintessa takes."

"A coyote My Lord." The American answered.

"The Desert Wolf!" Voldemort announced. "But, this behavior will not suffice in my world. Especially from my apprentice. Imperio!" He raised his wand, and Tess used her own strength combined with her newfound animalistic strength to fight back.

"Resisting the power of the Imperius Curse like that." said Voldemort. "Astonishing! But it will not do."

He raised his hand and lifted Tess until she was almost standing in midair. But what came next, would scar Tess for life, not only physically, but mentally.

"CRUCIO!"

Tess' body erupted with pain, as if white-hot knives were penetrating every inch of her body. She let out a roar of pain and she began wishing for it to stop, wishing it would end.

And just when she thought the pain would go away, it increased tenfold as her arms and legs were being forced to stretch, as if her bones were being pulled by an invisible hand. Bones were cracking and extending. Her tail was being pushed back in, her spine, forcibly straightened, her shoulder blades, were popped violently with a sickening crunch, back into her back, her elongated canine face felt like it was shoved back and her teeth felt like they were being impaled through her gums. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that she almost forgot her own name...Her veins were filled with fire, it was like she was growing knives from her own muscles, and her head was being torn in two. Her roars of pain turned into bloodcurdling screams that pierced Harry's soul. He couldn't help but think, was this what Neville's parents sounded and felt when they were being tortured?

Finally, after eternity, he let go and she dropped to the ground, twitching and shivering like she was in the coldest place on Earth.

There comes a point in the human body, when it experiences so much pain, it blanks out on the sense of touch because of the nerves being overloaded with signals of pain.

"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

Wormtail approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand, pulled out the wad of material gagging Harry, and then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone.

There was a split second, perhaps, when Harry might have considered running for it, but his injured leg shook under him as he stood on the overgrown grave, as the Death Eaters closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around him and Voldemort, so that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled. Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where Cedric's body lay and returned with Harry's wand, which he thrust roughly into Harry's hand without looking at him. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters.

"You have been taught how to duel. Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.

"No Harry." Tess grunted out but Voldemort used his magic to force her down.

At these words Harry remembered, as though from a former life, the dueling club at Hogwarts he had attended briefly two years ago...All he had learned there was the Disarming Spell, "Expelliarmus"...and what use would it be to deprive Voldemort of his wand, even if he could, when he was surrounded by Death Eaters, outnumbered by at least thirty to one? He had never learned anything that could possibly fit him for this. He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody had always warned...the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse - and Voldemort was right - his mother was not here to die for him this time...He was quite unprotected...But he couldn't let Tess die for him as well so what could he do?

"We bow to each other. Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties must be observed...Dumbledore would like you to show manners...Bow to death, Harry..."

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort's lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him...he was not going to give him that satisfaction...

"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand - and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon Harry lifted too. "And now you face me, like a man...straight-backed and proud, the way your father died..."

"Get away from him!" Tess yelled standing up, but Voldemort put her down using wandless magic.

"And now - we duel."

Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was...White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life -

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off; he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back toward Voldemort.

"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause...That hurt, didn't it. Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry didn't answer. He was going to die like Cedric, those pitiless red eyes were telling him so...he was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it...but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort...he wasn't going to beg...nor would he leave his friends behind.

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly. "Answer me! Imperio!"

And Harry felt, for the third time in his life, the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought...Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming...just answer no...say no...just answer no...

I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of his head, I won't answer...

Just answer no...

I won't do it, I won't say it...

Just answer no...

"I WON'T!"

And these words burst from Harry's mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him - back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over his body - back rushed the realization of where he was, and what he was facing...

"You won't?" said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die...Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready; with the reflexes born of his Quidditch training, he flung himself sideways onto the ground; grabbed Tess who was struggling to get up and they ran as best as they could behind a large marble headstone of Voldemort's father, and he heard it crack as the curse missed him.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry," said Voldemort's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, as the Death Eaters laughed. "You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry...come out and play, then...it will be quick...it might even be painless...I would not know...I have never died..."

"My Lord." Malfoy moved but Voldemort stopped him.

"Let them share one last moment before I kill him." He said.

Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. But first, there was his tortured sister he needed to make sure was safe.

"Tess." Harry whispered. "I want you to run, now. When I start it with Voldemort, take Cedric's body and get to the Cup."

"No." said Tess, putting her hand over Harry's so he couldn't talk. "If Voldemort wants to get to you, he's gonna have to get through **me** first. Look, we've been through shit, but Harry...you're my brother. (Harry's face broke into a grin. Hearing her call him that for the first time gave him a sense of belonging.) So if you're going down, you're taking me with you." She stuck out her fist and Harry returned it.

Tess and Harry stood up and walked together back to where Voldemort and the Death Eaters were...they gripped their wands tightly in their hands and they faced Voldemort.

"Have it your way." said Harry. As he shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!" Harry had beaten Tess to the punch so she was fighting the mysterious American.

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's - they met in midair, creating a long lasting battle. Tess and the American wizard's wands both became fire whips, fighting each other. ("Do nothing!" Voldemort called out to the others. "He's mine to finish!) And suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it his hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

Tess and the mysterious American were both at it, their fire whips battling to the very finish. Tess would have demanded who he was, and how he got a wand similar to that, but she was too busy concentrating on her power. And suddenly, her own fire got stronger, as it pused back and Tess' eyes started glowing bright purple, bright enough to light a candle.

"It **is** you." The American whispered, his suspicions about Morgan's daughter confirmed. And then, Tess' power got too strong and they were both pushed back, the American Death Eater, knocked out.

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now...

Tess was recovering when she saw the dome over her.

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Harry's; Harry held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air...It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort. It was a sound Harry and Tess recognized, though Harry had heard it only once before in his life: the phoenix song.

It was the sound of hope to Harry and Tess...the most beautiful and welcome thing they had ever heard in their lives...They felt as though the song were inside them instead of just around them...It was the sound he connected with Dumbledore, and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in his ear...The same was held for Tess, except she felt she was reunited with her mother.

Don't break the connection.

I know. Harry told the music, I know I mustn't...but no sooner had he thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever...and now the beam between him and Voldemort changed too...it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands - Harry felt his wand give a shudder under his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way...The direction of the beams movement was now toward him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily...

Tess started to raise her wand to help Harry but she heard her mother's voice saying, Don't Quintessa. Just wait for a minute, sweetie.

 _That's not possible._ Tess thought.

As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry's wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry's wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers -

He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed...and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way...and it was Voldemort's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now...Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful...

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemort's wand. Harry didn't understand why he was doing it, didn't know what it might achieve...but he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort's wand...and slowly...very slowly...it moved along the golden thread...it trembled for a moment...and then it connected...

At once, Voldemort's wand began to emit echoing screams of pain...then - Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished...the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail...more shouts of pain...and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip, a great, blueish something, that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke...It was a head...now a chest and arms...the torso of Cedric Diggory.

 _How?_ Tess wondered.

If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then, but instinct kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even though the thick gray ghost of Cedric Diggory (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Voldemort's wand, as though it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel...and this shade of Cedric stood up, and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

"Hold on. Harry," it said.

Its voice was distant and echoing. Harry looked at Voldemort...his wide red eyes were still shocked...he had no more expected this than Harry had...and, very dimly. Harry heard the frightened yells of the Death Eaters, prowling around the edges of the golden dome.

More screams of pain from the wand...and then something else emerged from its tip...the dense shadow of a second head, quickly followed by arms and torso...an old man Harry had seen only in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand just as Cedric had done...and his ghost, or his shadow, or whatever it was, fell next to Tess' and held onto her. It was a man who seemed very intelligent and kind, and a fierce friend.

It was Michael Crosswell, Johnnie's father.

"Don't do anything Tess." He said. "You'll disrupt the connection. And tell Johnathan, that I am proud of him." Another figure came by Cedric's, and surveyed Harry and Voldemort, and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick...

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. "Killed me, that one did...You fight him, boy...and girl, keep an eye on him."

But already, yet another head was emerging...and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's...Harry, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the others, staring...

The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like Cedric's as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Harry - don't let go!"

Another figure emerged from the wand and out came a beautiful woman with a warrior's aura, fierce and competitive.

"Mom?" Tess asked weakly.

"It's ok." Morgan said before turning to Harry as well. "You two, no matter what happens, stick together."

She and the other two shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it...and Voldemort's dead victims whispered as they circled the duelers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry and Tess, and hissed words Harry couldn't hear to Voldemort.

"Who killed you Mom?" Tess asked.

Morgan sighed and placed a shadowy hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes your greatest friends can turn out to be your worst enemies."

And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand...and Harry knew when he saw it who it would be...he knew, as though he had expected it from the moment when Cedric had appeared from the wand...knew, because the man appearing was the one he'd thought of more than any other tonight...

The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him...and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.

"Harry." he said sternly. "When the connection is broken, you must get to the Portkey. We can linger for a moment to give you some time but only a moment, do you understand?"

Harry nodded yes. And she came...first her head, then her body...a young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband.

"Harry...Tess" whispered the figure of Cedric, "take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents,..."

"I will," said Harry, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.

"Let go." Lily's sweet voice rang. "Sweetheart you're ready. Let go! Let go!"

"Do it now," whispered his father's voice, "be ready to run...do it now..."

"NOW!" Morgan yelled; Harry didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway - he pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry and Tess from his gaze -

And Harry with Tess ran as they had never run in their lives, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as they passed; they zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following them, hearing them hit the headstones - they were dodging curses and graves, pelting toward Cedric's body, Harry was no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do -

"Stun him!" he heard Voldemort scream.

Ten feet from Cedric, Tess dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping her wand more tightly, she dashed out from behind the angel -

"Impedimenta!" she bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him.

From a muffled yell, he thought she had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; Harry jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more jets of light flew over their heads as Harry fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm and Tess grabbed the other...

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort. Harry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; one tombstone stood between him, Tess and Voldemort, but Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach -

Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. They saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand.

"Accio!" Tess yelled, pointing her wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle -

He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that they felt the jerk behind their navels that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding them away in a whirl of wind and color, and Cedric along with them...They were going back.

But not to a victory but a mourn parade.


	52. Chapter 52

Harry and Tess felt themselves slam flat into the ground; Harry's face was pressed into grass; the smell of it filled his nostrils.

When the champions appeared, the crowd did not see Cedric's body but only the two champions so they started cheering and the band began playing it's music.

Tess' nerves were beginning to regain their sense of touch, and she felt something cold. _Why is this thing so cold?_ Tess wondered and then she saw Cedric's body, his death replaying in her mind. She began crying with Harry, remembering the quick death of their good friend.

But Dumbledore, ever the wise, sensed something was wrong and rushed to the champions.

Fleur, who saw that the champions were crying, walked closer to take a closer look and let out a horrified scream at the sight of her fellow champion's body.

Hagrid who was also cheering with Sara Crosswell, got up with her, knowing something was wrong.

Johnnie, his deductive skills ringing like an alarm, walked towards the crying champions.

"STOP THE GODDAMN MUSIC!" Tess shouted, her vivid violet eyes now blazing with angst, and when she got up to shout it, the entire audience saw Cedric's body, and all the cheering with the band stopped.

Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned Harry over.

"Harry! Harry!"

He opened his eyes.

He was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over him. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberating with their footsteps.

He had come back to the edge of the maze. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

Harry let go of the cup, but he clutched Cedric to him even more tightly. He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.

"Dumbledore, what's happened?" Cornelius Fudge asked out of shock. "My God - Diggory!" it whispered. "Dumbledore - he's dead!"

"He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back. Voldemort's back."

"Cedric." Tess sobbed out. "He asked us to bring his body back. We couldn't leave him. Not there."

"It's alright." Dumbledore said, holding her hand like she was his child. "It's alright. He's home, you both are.

The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them...and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night - "He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

"Keep everybody in their seats!" Fudge ordered before turning to Professor McGonagall and Snape. "A boy has just been killed."

"Harry, Tess, let go of him," he heard Johnnie's voice say, and he felt storng fingers trying to pry him from Cedric's limp body, but Harry wouldn't let him go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer.

"Children, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted us to bring him back," Harry muttered - it seemed important to explain this. "He wanted us to bring him back to his parents..."

"That's right. Both of you...just let go now..."

Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised both Harry and Tess from the ground and set -them on their feet, but Tess nearly shrieked when he lifted her, remembering her torture. Harry swayed but Tess caught him, her body still sore and shaken from the torture. Harry's head was pounding. His injured leg would no longer support his weight. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him - "What's happened?" "What's wrong with him?" "Diggory's dead!"

"Guys, it's ok." Sara said to both Harry and Tess. But when she touched Tess' shoulder she flinched immensely, still remembering the torture. "Oh Tess, what has he done to you?"

"They'll both need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "Tess is ill, Harry's injured - Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands..."

"I'll take the children, Dumbledore, I'll take him -"

"No, I would prefer-"

"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running...he's coming over...Don't you think you should tell him - before he sees - ?"

"Harry, Quintessa, stay here -"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically...The scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes...

"Let me through." A voice shouted.

"Let us through!" It was Cedric's parents.

"That's my son!" Amos cried when he saw the ordeal. "That's my boy!"

"That's my baby boy!" Cedric's mother cried out.

"Its all right, you too, I've got you...come on...hospital wing..."

"Dumbledore said stay," said Harry thickly, the pounding in his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever.

"You need to lie down...Come on now..."

"No." said Tess but the man was too strong for Tess.

Someone larger and stronger than they were was half pulling, half carrying them through the frightened crowd. They heard people gasping, screaming, and shouting as the man supporting him pushed a path through them, taking them back to the castle. Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship, Harry heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the man helping him walk.

They could hear Amos and his wife scream in agony and Tess couldn't blame them.

It was one thing to lose someone you loved, but another to lose your flesh and blood.


	53. Chapter 53

"What happened. Harry?" the man asked at last as he lifted Tess and Harry up the stone steps. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. It was Mad-Eye Moody.

"Cup was a Portkey," said Harry as they crossed the entrance hall. "Took me and Cedric to a graveyard...and Voldemort was there...Lord Voldemort..."

"Whole thing." Tess gasped out. "Whole Tournament...trap."

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Up the marble stairs...

"The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?"

"Killed Cedric...they killed Cedric..."

"And then?"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Along the corridor...

"Made a potion...got his body back..."

"The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?"

"And the Death Eaters came...and then him and Harry dueled..."

"You dueled with the Dark Lord?"

"Got away...my wand...did something funny...I saw my mum and dad...they came out of his wand..."

"Saw my mom and uncle.."

"In here. You too...in here, and sit down...You'll be all right now...drink this..."

Harry heard a key scrape in a lock and felt a cup being pushed into his hands.

"Drink it...you'll feel better...come on, now. Tess, Harry, I need to know exactly what happened..."

Moody helped tip the stuff down Harry's throat; he coughed and so did Tess, a peppery taste burning their throats. Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself...He looked as white as Fudge had looked, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon Harry's face.

"Voldemort's back? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"

"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me," said Harry. His head felt clearer; his scar wasn't hurting so badly; he could now see Moody's face distinctly, even though the office was dark. He and Tess could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch field. Tess was feeling a bit better, but she still felt her organs being stabbed.

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" said Moody.

"Blood," said Harry, raising his arm. His sleeve was ripped where Wormtail's dagger had torn it.

Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss.

"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"

"Yeah," said Tess. "Tons of 'em..."

"How did he treat them?" Moody asked quietly. "Did he forgive them?"

"Sort of." Tess said.

"What was it like?" Moody asked her. "What was he like? What was it like, to stand in his prescence?"

"It was like I had fallen into one of my dreams." Harry said. "Into one of my nightmares."

But Harry had suddenly remembered. He should have told Dumbledore, he should have said it straightaway -

"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here - they put our names in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure we got through to the end -"

Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down.

"I know who the Death Eater is," he said quietly.

"Karkaroff?" said Tess wildly. "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"

"Karkaroff?" said Moody with an odd laugh. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them...but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then - he didn't put our names in the goblet?"

"No," said Moody slowly. "Marvelous creatures, dragons, aren't they?" He asked in a voice matching Hagrid's.

Harry and Tess were both confused by this. What was Moody playing at?

"Do you think that miserable oaf would have let you two in the woods if I hadn't suggested it to dear Aunt Sara?" Moody asked. "Did you think Cedric Diggory, could have known to put the egg underwater if I hadn't told him first myself? Did you think that hopeless romantic Draco Malfoy, could have asked you Tess, to the Ball if I hadn't suggested it to him? Did you think that you could have gotten that report on Morgan Crosswell's death if I hadn't found it myself and told Sara to send it to you? Did you think that you would have survived without Gillyweed if I had not handed you the book on the spell? Did you think that Neville Longbottom, the witless wonder, could have provided you with Gillyweed if I hadn't given him the book that led him straight to it? Huh?" Moody raised his finger and pointed it to his head, as if to say, "Think."

"It was you from the beginning." said Harry. "You put our names in the Goblet of Fire. You bewitched Krum."

"You fired the Dark Mark." Tess said astonished. She got up to face him but Moody forced her into a chair with magic. "You're an Auror, dedicating to fighting criminals. Why do this?"

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon Harry. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.

"It hasn't been easy, brats, guiding you two through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess, so that my hand would not be detectable in your success'. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you both got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start - then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your way clear. But I also had to contend with both your stupidity. The second task...that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint -"

"Decent people are so easy to manipulate. I was sure Cedric would want to repay you for telling him about the dragons, and so he did. But even then, Potter, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time...all those hours in the library. Didn't you realize that the book you needed was in your dormitory all along? I planted it there early on, I gave it to the Longbottom boy, don't you remember? Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. It would have told you all you needed to know about gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Longbottom would have told you in an instant. And you did. But Crosswell, you did not. You have a streak of independence and pride that might have ruined everything."

Moody's wand was still pointing directly at Tess' heart. Over his shoulder, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall.

"You were so long in that lake, Potter, I thought you had drowned. But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it. I breathed again.

"You both had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course," said Moody. "I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way. I Stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I put the Imperius Curse on Krum, so that he would finish Diggory and leave your path to the cup clear."

Harry and Tess stared at Moody. They just didn't see how this could be...Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror...the one who had caught so many Death Eaters...It made no sense...no sense at all...

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, had become more distinct. Harry could see the outlines of three people over Moody's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Moody wasn't watching them. His magical eye was upon Harry.

"The Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you. Potter, and he so wanted to," whispered Moody. "Nor did he acquire Quintessa. Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him - the thing he needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for him. And I gave the Dark Lord his daughter. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter...closer than a son..."

Moody's normal eye was bulging, the magical eye fixed upon Harry. The door was barred, and Harry knew he would never reach his own wand in time...

"The Dark Lord and I," said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over Harry, leering down at him, "have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers...very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure...the very great pleasure...of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," Harry said - he couldn't stop himself- "you're mad!"

"Guess those years of paranoia has driven you nuts!" Tess exclaimed.

"Mad, am I?" said Moody, his voice rising uncontrollably. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him - and now - I conquer you!"

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth; Harry plunged his own hand into his robes -

"Stupefy!" There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart -

Moody was thrown backward onto the office floor. Harry, still staring at the place where Moody's face had been, saw Albus Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall looking back at him out of the Foe-Glass. He looked around and saw the three of them standing in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.

At that moment, Harry and Tess fully understood for the first time why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible than Harry could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.

Tess got up from her chair and went to Harry.

He stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moody's unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, looking into the Foe-Glass, where his own face was still visible, glaring into the room. Professor McGonagall went straight to Harry and Tess.

"Come along, Potter," she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. "Come along...hospital wing..."

"No," said Dumbledore sharply.

"Dumbledore, they ought to - look at them - these children have been through enough tonight -"

"They will stay, Minerva, because they needs to understand," said Dumbledore curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. They need to know who has put them through the ordeal both of them have suffered tonight, and why,"

"Moody," Harry said. He was still in a state of complete disbelief. "How can it have been Moody?"

"What are you saying?" Tess asked confused. "That's not Moody?"

"Exactly. This is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew - and I followed."

Dumbledore bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.

"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here."

If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once and left the office. Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneako-scopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. Harry and Tess watched, astounded, as Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement.

He and Tessss were looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. Harry stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office.

Dumbledore climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.

"Stunned - controlled by the Imperius Curse - very weak," he said. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak - he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."

Harry did as he was told; Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.

"Polyjuice Potion, you two," said Dumbledore. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair..." Dumbledore looked down on the Moody in the trunk. "The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done...on the hour...every hour...We shall see."

Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. Harry stared at him too. Minutes passed in silence...

Then, before Harry and Tess' very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.

Harry and Tess saw a man lying before them, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. He knew who he was. He had seen him in Dumbledore's Pensieve, had watched him being led away from court by the dementors, trying to convince Mr. Crouch that he was innocent...but he was lined around the eyes now and looked much older...

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.

"Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch Jr.!"

"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.

"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?"

She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest.

"You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

"He is simply Stunned, Winky," said Dumbledore. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"

Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum with which he had threatened Harry in class. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall beneath the Foe-Glass, in which the reflections of Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall were still glaring down upon them all. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest and said, "Ennervate."

Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.

"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

The man's eyelids flickered.

"Yes," he muttered.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked as a test.

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.

"Albus Dumbledore."

"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

"My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

Winky was shaking her head, trembling.

"Say no more. Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"

But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.

"The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.

"My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."

The man's eyelids flickered.

"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master...of returning to his service."

"How did your father subdue you?" said Dumbledore.

"The Imperius Curse," Crouch said. "I was under my father's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior."

"Master Barty, Master Barty," sobbed Winky through her hands. "You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble..."

"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore softly. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"

"Yes," said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."

"Why is she coming to nose into my masters private business?" sobbed Winky. "Why isn't she leaving us be?"

"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore.

"Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.

"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.

"But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boys pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden."

"Master Barty, you bad boy!" whispered Winky, tears trickling between her fingers.

"So you took the wand," said Dumbledore, "and what did you do with it?"

"We went back to the tent," said Crouch. "Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand.

I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky.

"Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.

"When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape."

Winky let out a wail of despair.

"Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then...and then..." Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "My master came for me.

"He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."

The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak.

"It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.

"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first -"

"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.

"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" said Dumbledore.

"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," said Dumbledore.

"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban.

"My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" said Dumbledore quickly. "What map is this?"

"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape.

"For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father."

"Noooo!" wailed Winky. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"

"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come.

"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone...I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight..."

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.

Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry and Quintessa upstairs?"

"Of course," said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.

"Severus" - Dumbledore turned to Snape - "please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.

"Harry?" Dumbledore said gently. "Quintessa?"

Harry got up and swayed again; the pain in his leg, which he had not noticed all the time he had been listening to Crouch, now returned in full measure. He also realized that he was shaking. Dumbledore gripped his arm and helped him out into the dark corridor. Tess got up and flinched when Dumbledore tried to help her walk. His blue eyes shone with fear, as if he had a suspicion what she had been through.

"I want you to come up to my office first, children," he said quietly as they headed up the passageway. "Sirius is waiting for us there."

"Dad's here." Tess whispered, feeling for the first time in that night, feeling as if she could be happy.


	54. Chapter 54

A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon Harry, but he did not care; he was even glad of it. He didn't want to have to think about anything that had happened since he had first touched the Triwizard Cup. He didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across his mind. Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk. Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron. Someone he considered his sister being tortured. Cedric...dead...Cedric, asking to be returned to his parents...

"Professor," Tess mumbled, "where's Diggory's folks?"

"They are with Professor Sprout," said Dumbledore. His voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for the first time. "She was Head of Cedric's house, and knew him best."

They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and he, Tess, and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open. Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room and embraced both children in his arms like the father he truly was.

"Harry, are you all right? I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened? Oh Quintessa-why did you flinch- **what did he do to you**?" Sirius' face turned from concerned to malevolent as he helped Harry and his daughter into a chair in front of the desk.

"What happened?" he asked more urgently. "What did he do to you two?"

Dumbledore began to tell Sirius everything Barty Crouch had said. Harry and Tess were only half listening. So tired every bone in his body was aching, they wanted nothing more than to sit here, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until they fell asleep and didn't have to think or feel anymore. Sirius led Tess out of her chair and let her sit on his lap. Tess was hesitant at first because of the night's coming back to her but she agreed, Sirius hugging her, as she sat, wishing she was asleep.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Harry's knee.

"'Lo, Fawkes," said Harry quietly. He stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and-gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. There was something comforting about his warm weight.

"Hi." Tess said softly. "How's it going?"

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry then Tess, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question them. He was going to make Harry and Tess relive everything.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze. children." said Dumbledore.

"We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Do you not see how my daughter and godson are behaving? They've been through much! Let them have a sleep. Let them rest."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius's words as he beckoned Tess to come forward toward his desk. He leaned towards Harry and Tess. Very unwillingly, they raised their heads and looked into those blue eyes.

"If I thought I could help you two." Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you both into an enchanted sleep and allowing you both to postpone the moment when you two would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you both finally feel it. Both of you have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you two. I ask you two to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."

The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and the fourth years felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down their throats into their stomachs, warming them, and strengthening them.

He took a deep breath and began to tell them, taking turns with Tess. As each spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before their eyes; they saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; they saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; they saw Cedric's body, lying on the ground beside the cup.

Tess relived her horrors through her story. She recalled first transforming into her Animagus form-in which both her father and Dumbledore beamed at, especially being closely related to the dog-to her torture and her being forced out of her form by being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse-Sirius let out a dog's growl as he prepared to go after the man who tormented his child.

It was even a relief for the both of them; they felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from them. It was costing each of them every bit of determination, they had to keep talking, yet they both sensed that once they had finished, he would feel better.

When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, Sirius let out a vehement exclamation and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry started. Dumbledore walked around the desk and told Harry to stretch out his arm. Harry showed them both the place where his robes were torn and the cut beneath them.

"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry told Dumbledore. "He said the protection my - my mother left in me - he'd have it too. And he was right - he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."

For a fleeting instant, Harry thought he saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But next second. Harry was sure he had imagined it, for when Dumbledore had returned to his seat behind the desk, he looked as old and weary as Harry had ever seen him.

"Very well," he said, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."

Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters.

Then Tess told them about Voldemort's offer and how she had refused. She didn't tell them she had almost said yes, she couldn't afford to make them feel more worried than they were, and she was feeling more ashamed of herself for believing the madman.

Then Harry told how Voldemort had untied him, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel.

But when they both reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and Voldemort's wands, Tess found her throat obstructed. She tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into her mind. He could see Cedric emerging, her mom, her uncle, the old man, Bertha Jorkins...Harry's father...and his mother...

He was glad when Sirius broke the silence.

"The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to Dumbledore. "Why?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look.

"Priori Incantatem," he muttered.

His eyes gazed into Harry's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully on Harry's knee.

"My wand's feather came from Fawkes?" Harry said, amazed.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" said Sirius.

"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle...a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first...and then those which preceded it..."

He looked interrogatively at Harry, and Harry nodded.

"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Harry's face, "that some form of Cedric must have reappeared."

Harry nodded again.

"Diggory came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand...am I correct, Harry?"

"He spoke to me," Harry said. He was suddenly shaking again. "The...the ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."

"An echo," said Dumbledore, "which retained Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared...less recent victims of Voldemort's wand..."

"An old man," Harry said, his throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And..."

"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Yes," said Harry.

"And mine?" Tess asked. "I mean my uncle and mom?"

"Yes." said Dumbeldore.

Sirius's grip on Harry's shoulder was now so tight it was painful.

"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows...what did they do?"

Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's father had told him what to do, how Cedric's had made its final request. And how Morgan gave her clue to how she was murdered. And Dumbledore seemed interested that he carried a wand similar to hers.

"Interesting." said Dumbledore.

"I thought Ollivander said my wand was the only of it's kind in the country." said Tess.

"It is." said Dumbledore. "Your wand, the wood made from it, is rare all over the world. Not many people even in America are familiar with a wand's power such as that. This American wizard joining the Dark Lord and having the same wand core as you, must mean that he must have stolen it."

"But who was he?" Harry asked. "Why would Voldemort recruit an American?"

"That seems to be the question doesn't it?" Sirius asked.

"The strange thing is." said Tess furrowing her eyebrows. "I feel like I know him."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked.

"He seemed familiar." said Tess. "His voice."

When Harry finished the rest of the story, he found he could not continue. He looked around at Sirius and saw that he had his face in his hands. Tess walked up and gave her father a hug of comfort.

Harry suddenly became aware that Fawkes had left his knee. The phoenix had fluttered to the floor. It was resting its beautiful head against Harry's injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. The pain vanished. The skin mended. His leg was repaired.

"I will say it again," said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You two have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of each of you tonight. You both have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You bothhave shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourselves equal to it - and you have now given us all we have a right to expect. You will both come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you two returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace...Sirius, would you like to stay with them?"

Sirius nodded and stood up. He transformed back into the great black dog and walked with Harry, Tess, and Dumbledore out of the office, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing.

When Dumbledore pushed open the door. Harry saw Sara, Johnnie, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. Sara was stress eating so much, that she had just downed a whole pitcher of pumpkin juice They appeared to be demanding to know where Harry was and what had happened to him. All of them whipped around as Harry, Tess, Dumbledore, and the black dog entered, and Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.

"Harry! Oh Harry!"

"Tess!"

She started to hurry toward them, but Dumbledore moved between them.

"Molly," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. These children have been through a terrible ordeal tonight. Each child has had just had to relive it for me. What they needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," he added, looking around at Ron, Sara, Johnnie, Hermione, and Bill too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning either of them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white. She rounded on Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? They need quiet!"

"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was Sirius, "may I ask what - ?"

"This dog will be remaining with Harry and Tess for a while," said Dumbledore simply. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Kids - I will wait while you get into bed."

Harry felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to Dumbledore for asking the others not to question him. Tess felt grateful too but mostly she just wanted to go to sleep. It wasn't as though neither of them wanted them there; but the thought of explaining it all over again, the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than each could stand.

"I will be back to see you both as soon as I have met with Fudge," said Dumbledore. "I would like you two to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He left.

As Madam Pomfrey led Harry to a nearby bed, he caught sight of the real Moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. His wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table.

"Is he okay?" Harry asked.

"He'll be fine," said Madam Pomfrey, giving Harry some pajamas and pulling screens around him. He took off his robes, pulled on the pajamas, and got into bed. Tess did the same thing, getting in bed next to Harry's. Ron, Sara, Johnnie, Hermione, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and the black dog came around the screens and settled themselves in chairs on either side of the two beds, hosting their friends. Ron and Hermione were looking at them almost cautiously, as though scared of him.

"I'm all right," he told them. "Just tired."

"You and me both bro." Tess said apathetically.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed their bed-covers unnecessarily.

Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and a goblet.

"You'll need to drink all of this. Harry. You too Tess." she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

"Perfect!" Tess nearly shouted. "Pomfery, you're a life saver."

The nurse just smiled at Tess' words and said, "Just drink the potion."

Harry and Tess took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. Tess felt herself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around the wizards became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at them in a friendly way through the screen around their beds; Harry's body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before either could finish the potion, before either could say another word, the exhaustion had carried both off to sleep.

Harry woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that he didn't open his eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; he was sure it was still nighttime and had a feeling that he couldn't have been asleep very long.

Then he heard whispering around him.

"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

Harry opened his eyes blearily. Someone had removed his glasses. He could see the fuzzy outlines of Mrs. Weasley and Bill close by. Mrs. Weasley was on her feet. Johnnie was looking livid.

"That's Fudge's voice," she whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

Now Harry could hear them too: people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva -" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out -"

Harry heard the hospital doors burst open. Unnoticed by any of the people around his bed, all of whom were staring at the door as Bill pulled back the screens, Harry sat up and put his glasses back on. He looked over to see Tess asleep, but he somehow got the feeling that she was faking it and was awake.

Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.

"He's not here," said Johnnie angrily. "This is a hospital wing. Minister, don't you think you'd might wanna consider-"

But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch -"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"

Harry had never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this. There were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and a hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury.

Tess wouldn't cower in terror of other people, but when it came to Professor McGonagall, she became terrified of her wrath at that moment.

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice; he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch -"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but -"

"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who likewise looked angrier than Harry had ever seen him, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous -"

But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.

"The moment that - that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and - and -"

Both Harry and Tess felt a chill in their stomachs as Professor McGonagall struggled to find words to describe what had happened. They did not need her to finish her sentence. Both teenagers knew what the dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal kiss to Barty Crouch. It had sucked his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths'."

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Johnnie. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort **was** giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.

"You-Know-Who...returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," said Dumbledore, "we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort - learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins - went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and Harry was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "you - you can't seriously believe that You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now...certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."

"When Harry and Quintessa touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, both was transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "They witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."

Dumbledore glanced around at Harry and saw that he was awake, but shook his head and said, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry nor Quintessa tonight."

Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at Harry, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are - er - prepared to take their words on this, are you, Dumbledore?"

There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Sirius growling. His hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at Fudge.

"Certainly, I believe them." said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard both of their accounts of what happened after they touched the Triwizard Cup; the three stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Harry and Tess before answering.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy and a girl, both of whom...well..."

Fudge shot Harry another look, and Harry suddenly understood.

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," he said quietly.

Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill all jumped. None of them had realized that Harry was awake.

Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.

"And if I have?" he said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place -"

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly - hallucinations?"

"You dare accuse a kid who's lost his parents." Tess got up and surprising everyone. "Who was raised by people who don't give a damn about him, who watched a kid die in front of him and throughout his school life was known for something that only happened when he was a baby! You dare to accuse him of pains you can't begin to even fathom. So don't you dare think for a second-"

"Quintessa." Johnnie said sternly. "That's enough. Let's all just try to get together, put aside our opinions and focus on what should happen."

"Exactly." said Fudge. "But how can I from a boy who's obviously disturbed?"

"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power that Harry had felt after Dumbledore had Stunned young Crouch. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

Fudge had taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn.

"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before..."

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted. He tried to get out of bed again, but Mrs. Weasley forced him back. "Me and Tess saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy -"

Snape made a sudden movement, but as Harry looked at him, Snape's eyes flew back to Fudge.

"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family - donations to excellent causes -"

"Macnair!" Harry continued.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

"Avery - Nott - Crabbe - Goyle -"

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heavens sake, Dumbledore - the boy and the girl were full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too - their tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them - the boy can talk to snakes. And the girl, she's American. Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

"You idiot!" Johnnie cried. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years! And if I were you, I would watch my words around my superiors."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had always thought of Fudge as a kindly figure, a little blustering, a little pompous, but essentially good-natured. But now a short, angry wizard stood before him, refusing, point-blank, to accept the prospect of disruption in his comfortable and ordered world - to believe that Voldemort could have risen.

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway. Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors -"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.

"The second step you must take - and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You - you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants - people hate them, Dumbledore - end of my career -"

"You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any - and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now- take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act - and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad..."

And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising. Johnnie was doing the same with his cousin. Bill, Ron, and Hermione were staring at Fudge.

"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I - I shall act as I see fit."

Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me -"

"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be..."

Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.

"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..."

He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry's bed.

"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly...am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"Ok." said Johnnie. "I'm just gonna come out say it; Fudge is a dick."

"Preach." said Tess.

"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry -"

"Leave it to me," said Bill.

He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also - if she will consent to come - Madame Maxime."

Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"Very - very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.

Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again.

"And now," he said, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius...if you could resume your usual form."

The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.

Mrs. Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.

"Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.

"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!"

"It's fine guys." said Tess. "This is my dad."

Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.

"Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is **he** doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

Harry thought Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.

Johnnie coughed and it sounded like, "Yeah right."

"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any us.

Very slowly - but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill - Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.

"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher - the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But -" said Harry.

He wanted Sirius to stay. He did not want to have to say goodbye again so quickly.

And he knew that Tess didn't want to say goodbye to her father.

"You'll see me very soon. Harry," said Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah...of course I do."

Sirius grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, kissed his daughter on the head and whispered to her, "I'll send you a note, so we can really talk", transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..."

"I am," said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggory's. Harry, Quintessa - take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."

Harry slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. Hermione, Ron, Johnnie, and Mrs. Weasley were all looking at them. None of them spoke for a very long time.

"You've got to take the rest of your potion. Harry," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while...think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."

"Yeah." said Tess. "That shovel face was the real champion. Always has been, always will be."

The thing against which he had been fighting on and off ever since he had come out of the maze was threatening to overpower him. He could feel a burning, prickling feeling in the inner corners of his eyes. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.

Tess wanted to start crying but held it down, knowing she had to be strong.

"It wasn't your fault. Harry," Mrs. Weasley whispered.

"I told him to take the cup with me," said Harry.

Now the burning feeling was in his throat too. He wished Ron would look away.

Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry. He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother. The full weight of everything he had seen that night seemed to fall in upon him as Mrs. Weasley held him to her. His mother's face, his father's voice, the sight of Cedric, dead on the ground all started spinning in his head until he could hardly bear it, until he was screwing up his face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of him.

"Why couldn't I have just pushed Cedric out of the way?" Tess asked. "I was just standing there, not knowing what to do."

There was a loud slamming noise, and Mrs. Weasley and Harry broke apart. Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Your potion, guys." said Johnnie quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

Both Tess and Harry drank it in one gulp. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over them; they fell back onto their pillows and thought no more.


	55. Chapter 55

When he looked back, even a month later, Harry found he had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though he had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections he did have were very painful. The worst, perhaps, was the meeting with the Diggory's that took place the following morning.

They did not blame him or Tess for what had happened; on the contrary, both thanked them for returning Cedric's body to them. Mr. Diggory sobbed through most of the interview. Mrs. Diggory's grief seemed to be beyond tears.

"He suffered very little then," she said, when Harry had told her how Cedric had died. "And after all, Amos...he died just when he'd won the tournament. He must have been happy."

When they got to their feet, she looked down at Harry and said, "You look after each other, now."

Harry seized the sack of gold on the bedside table.

"You take this," he muttered to her. "It should've been Cedric's, he got there first, you take it -"

But she backed away from him.

"Oh no, it's yours, dear, I couldn't...you keep it."

"Please?" Tess pleaded. "Take it for your son." They still wouldn't take it.

Tess returned to Gryffindor Tower that night and she found on her bed, a note in her father's handwriting;

Meet me in the cave where I saw you and Harry.

So Tess donned her leather jacket and ran outside, running and running until she found a black dog, which led her to the cave.

"Dad." said Tess, running up to hug her father.

"Oh my girl." said Sirius, kissing her head. "My baby girl. Come, sit."

"I forgot to get you food Dad." said Tess. "I'm sorry."

"Any time I get to see you is enough for me." said Sirius as he sat down with her.

"Now that Voldemort's back." said Tess. "What do we do? Raise an army?"

"One step at a time Pup." said Sirius. "First we must spread the word."

"Yeah the word some Fudge the Fucking Idiot-"

Sirius cleared his throat, giving her a "try and test me" look.

"Sorry Dad." Tess said quickly. "I was saying, that people like Fudge aren't gonna accept the truth."

"There are people in this world who are blinded." said Sirius. "And it's not just power that can blind you, love, fear, hate. But you can't always focus on those who aren't willing to listen. Right now, we're going to need all the help we can get."

"What was it like?" Tess asked. "The first war? Were you scared when Voldemort rose to power then?"

"It felt like the world was falling to pieces right before my eyes." said Sirius, stroking his daughter's shoulder. "Like the war happened all in a day."

"Did you have your family to support you?" Tess asked.

Sirius winced, thinking of how he was going to explain to his daughter the true horrors of his family. "My family were Voldemort's supporters. My parents were obsessed with their pure blood mania, my cousins, ugh, Death Eaters. The lot of them. I ran away when I was 16."

"I know." said Tess. "Your place does pride in keeping records of what our family does."

"Now enough about me." said Sirius, shifting to face his daughter. "What about you? What was it like? To transform into your animal self for the first time?"

Tess took a wistful sigh, remembering the change and how she felt it break out of her cage.

"It felt amazing." said Tess. "Like some old skin was being shedded off and I was growing new one-or in this case a fur coat. It didn't hurt, to transform. But it felt weird. I remember feeling really whacked up everywhere and then I was on four legs and I slipped through the ropes binding me and I started attacking the Death Eaters."

Sirius let out a joyful laugh. "That's my girl." He said hugging her.

"I was a coyote." said Tess. "You know, a coyote is both a relative of the dog and the wolf. Canis Latrans."

"Makes sense." said Sirius. "What happened next?"

Tess looked away, remembering the torture all too well.

"Quintessa I'm sorry." said Sirius. "I shouldn't have asked you if you're not feeling up to sharing with your papa about this."

"No it's fine." said Tess. "Then, Voldemort tried to use the Imperius Curse, which I fought. And then...I remember my form being pushed in, forcing me to change back. It felt like my muscles were on fire and my bones were breaking. My mind felt like it was being torn apart. Yet, I can't help but think, is this what Lupin feels like? Every full moon?"

Sirius sighed, his brow furrowing and wincing, at the memory of his friend's screams once a month.

"Not in the way you went through." said Sirius. "But if you put it that way, kind of, yes."

"Jesus." Tess said appalled. "How does he live through that? How does he deal with that pain?"

"It's never easy for a werewolf." said Sirius. "But as long as they've got friends or family, it makes it easier. At least I think it does."

"I wanna show you." said Tess. "My form."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked. "You've just been through a great deal."

"I'm fine." said Tess. She closed her eyes, reached for her animal inside of her. Tess kept searching and searching, but she couldn't find it. She opened her eyes, and looked at her human hands in horror. "No."

"Tess what is it?" Sirius asked, rushing to her. "Would you like me to teach you?"

"It's my animal." said Tess. "I don't feel it. It's gone."

Sirius' eyes widened. The worst fate of any Animagus was to have their shapeshifting ability stripped away from them, but at their first shift?

 _No._ He thought, his heart exploding with fear. _Not Quintessa, not my daughter._

"Maybe you're just tired." Sirius said, hoping to make things seem tired.

"No." said Tess, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I can't turn. I can't change anymore." She gulped down, trying to fight her feelings.

Sirius at that moment, wrapped her in a fatherly hug. "Your feelings, don't fight them anymore. Let them win."

Tess sobbed in his chest, and Sirius started letting out a couple of tears as well, he couldn't deny the truth. Voldemort's Cruciatus not only forced her to change back into human but had handicapped her of any shapeshifting.

All the work Tess Black did over the entire year, had been for nothing.


	56. Chapter 56

Even to the following evening, Tess tried and tried to transform, but was unable to. On the brightside, she didn't have to register, because she couldn't.

From what Hermione and Ron told her and Harry, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry and Tess alone, that nobody ask them questions or badger each of them to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, each noticed, were skirting them in the corridors, avoiding their eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as each passed. Harry guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous he was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Cedric had died. Tess found that either didn't care very much. She liked it best when she was with Harry, Ron and Hermione and they were talking about other things, or else letting her sit in silence while they played chess. All of them felt as though all the Golden Quartet had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain. The only time they touched upon the subject was when Ron and Tess told Harry about a meeting Mrs. Weasley had had with Dumbledore before going home.

"She went to ask him if you could come straight to us this summer," he said. "But he wants you to go back to the Dursleys, at least at first."

"Same here." said Tess. "I offered to have Harry in my place for the summer. But Dumbledore wouldn't let me."

"Why?" said Harry.

"She said Dumbledore's got his reasons," said Ron, shaking his head darkly. "I suppose we've got to trust him, haven't we?"

"Yeah but I don't think that trust is gonna help much." said Tess.

The only person apart from Ron, Tess, and Hermione that Harry felt able to talk to was Hagrid. As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin. It was a bright and sunny day; Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly.

"Who's that?" called Hagrid, coming to the door. "Harry! Tess"

He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair, and said, "Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh both."

They saw two bucket-size cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when they entered Hagrid's cabin.

"What's with the tea set?" Tess asked.

"Bin havin' a cuppa with Olympe," Hagrid said. "She's jus' left."

"Who?" said Ron curiously.

"Madame Maxime, o' course!" said Hagrid.

"You two made up, have you?" said Ron.

"Dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said Hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea and offered around a plate of doughy cookies, he leaned back in his chair and surveyed Harry closely through his beetle-black eyes.

"Yeh both all righ'?" he said gruffly

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Swell." said Tess sarcastically.

"No, yeh're both not," said Hagrid. "Course yeh're both not. But yeh two will be."

Harry said nothing.

"Knew he was goin' ter come back," said Hagrid, and Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione looked up at him, shocked. "Known it fer years. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledores plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. 'S long as we've got him, I'm not too worried."

Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on their faces.

"No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "What's comin' will come, an we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me wha' yeh both did, yeh two."

Hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at Harry.

"Yeh did as much as yer father would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that."

Harry smiled back at him. It was the first time he'd smiled in days.

"You're just like yer moth'o." said Hagrid to Tess. "Reckless, always getting ou' there, bu' a true friend."

"What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?" Harry asked. "He sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him - that night."

"Got a little job fer me over the summer," said Hagrid. "Secret, though. I'm not s'pposed ter talk abou' it, no, not even ter you lot. Olympe - Madame Maxime ter you - might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded."

"Is it to do with Voldemort?"

Hagrid flinched at the sound of the name.

"Migh' be," he said evasively. "Now...who'd like ter come an' visit the las' skrewt with me? I was jokin' - jokin'!" he added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces.

"Hagrid!" Tess said mock horrified.

It was with a heavy heart that Tess packed her trunk up in the dormitory on the night before her return to London. She was dreading the Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced. She had avoided being in the Great Hall when it was full ever since she had left the hospital wing, sometimes not even eating. She couldn't deal with any more stress as it was.

When he, Tess, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table. Tess knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Harry couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff's chair was empty. Tess wondered, as she sat down with the other Gryffindors, what had happened to Karkaroff.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape. His eyes lingered on Harry for a moment as Harry looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. Harry continued to watch him, long after Snape had looked away.

What was it that Snape had done on Dumbledores orders, the night that Voldemort had returned? And why...why...was Dumbledore so convinced that Snape was truly on their side? He had been their spy, Dumbledore had said so in the Pensieve. Snape had turned spy against Voldemort, "at great personal risk." Was that the job he had taken up again? Had he made contact with the Death Eaters, perhaps? Pretended that he had never really gone over to Dumbledore, that he had been, like Voldemort himself, biding his time?

Harry's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."

Tess paused talking with the the Weasley Twins, and her eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before she had gotten to her feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."

Harry caught a glimpse of Cho through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face. He looked down at the table as they all sat down again.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and fierce friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore. Tess winced, remembering the green light that flashed before her eyes.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now...or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table. Harry saw Draco Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore.

"There is a couple of people who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter and Quintessa Crossswell."

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a dozen heads turned in both Harry and Tess' direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter and Quintessa Crosswell managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "Together, they risked their own lives to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. Each of them showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor both."

Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and Tess and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured each name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures. Harry saw that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.

Tess wasn't too surprised by their behavior, seeing their families and their fathers. She still couldn't help but feel bad for them, not having the choice of what you believe in.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemort's return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. While we come from different places and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one."

"It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave and true, right to the very end. Remember Cedric Diggory."


End file.
